


Connected

by readridinghood



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: +9years, Alpha Derek Hale, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Derek Helps Stiles, Grief/Mourning, Knotting, M/M, Mates, Mates Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Mates/Soul Mark, Mating Bond, Mating Rituals, Parenthood, Past Stiles Stilinski/OFC - Freeform, Pining Derek Hale, Post-High School, Post-Season/Series 02, Single Parent Stiles Stilinski, Some Season3 events & characters mentioned, Werewolf Mates, bloodletting-but not for the sake of kink, knotting-but definitely for the sake of kink.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-10-07 02:46:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 114,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10350696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/readridinghood/pseuds/readridinghood
Summary: After the death of his wife, Stiles finds himself left alone with their three children, struggling to keep from being sucked into a void of grief and despair that her death left him with. Knowing his children are safe in the pack's arms under Derek's watchful eyes, he struggles to regain his footing. What do you do when the world keeps tumbling over you and what you've thought of as fact no longer holds true? As the world comes back into focus, so does the love for Derek he thought he'd long since conquered and now with his eyes open, what he thought was the end of him, is only a new beginning.A decade after he fell in love with Stiles, countless days of keeping himself restrained while building a friendship with him, Derek finds out with absolute certainty that Stiles is his mate. You only mate once in your life, so how is it that Stiles was mated to Sophia, his wife and mother of his three children, the woman he is grieving the loss of at the same moment that Derek makes his discovery.





	1. Prologue: "Don't Forget"

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a bigbang on LJ back in 2014 and never fully posted at LJ and never at AO3. It has gone through a lot of changes and edits before posting. Thank you to my beta, Nickie for doing such a great job, I love you.  
> Thank you to my awesome artist, [adobejunkie](http://archiveofourown.org/users/adobejunkie). I'm sorry it took so long to get this posted, your work is beautiful and I'm glad I finally have this story finished for everyone to see it.  
>  **Some of the small changes I made were the names of 3 of the original minor characters. Two of whom were male cousins named Liam and Hayden and a third, was a child named Theo. While I was going through the story one last time I also decided to give the Sheriff his canon name too.**  
>  Also, while we are talking names, and someone asked this before, Arek is pronounced as "Are+ick" not Eric.

  
**[](http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/readridinghood/67257400/1550/1550_original.png)  
**  
Prologue: “Don’t Forget”  


_“Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly. I can never be what I ought to be until you are what you ought to be. This is the interrelated structure of reality.”_ ~ Martin Luther King, Jr.

The Wiyots were unlike all other Native American tribes. The differences reached beyond the most startling one, the Wiyots being the only Native American tribe being werewolves and in reality more of a pack than simply a tribe. Other tribes allowed their males to mate with many others, as long as their Chief allowed the couplings. The Wiyot’s Chief-Alpha chose the mates for all members of the pack, and they were allowed only the one. Throughout the Wiyot pack’s existence, the wolves listened to their Chief-Alpha and it was unheard of for any of them to defy his decisions. 

Pamuya, the Chief-Alpha’s youngest and most obedient son, did just that when it came time for him to accept a mate. He did not wish to marry the girl the Chief had selected for him. In childhood he had fallen in love with Hakidonmuya, but the Chief did not believe her strong enough to be a good mate for his virile son and believed her unable to bear him children as she had been a sickly child. Pamuya was convinced that Hakidonmuya was his mate and he felt as if he would die if he were forced to mate with another but her. He could not convince his father of this and refused to marry the girl his father had chosen. He told his father that if he was not given permission to marry Hakidonmuya, he would not ever mate at all. 

The Chief-Alpha was angry and tried to force his son, his Beta, to submit to him, using the harshest and loudest of howls, hoping to bring him to his knees. Pamuya stood his ground and refused to submit to his father's will and his choice of whom to mate. As the Chief placed a paw, its claws fully extended, against his throat, Pamuya did not back down or become frightened. He stared into his father’s eyes, silently willing him to kill him, because he would never disgrace the love that Hakidonmuya offered him by mating with another.

Overwhelmed by his son’s unflinching courage, the Chief-Alpha withdrew his claws and forced his son to sit before him. He wanted to understand why the son he loved so much, the child who had always done exactly as he asked and whom he was certain would one day be the Chief-Alpha, would defy him when no one else had ever dared.

Pamuya said that when he heard Hakidonmuya’s heartbeat, his own made pace with her rhythm. When he saw her face, he had visions of their future together. When he ran with his brothers, he could still smell where she had stepped years before. Whenever he shifted, he had visions of them hunting with their sons under the full moon. When Hakidonmuya gazed at him, he had visions of their daughters howling at the moon as they ran together.

The Chief asked Pamuya how he could be certain that the visions were not false dreams. He asked Pamuya where he obtained the wisdom to know his mate, when it had always been the Chief-Alpha who chose the mates for all in the pack.

Pamuya told his father that he could feel Hakidonmuya within him, as strongly as he felt the full moon. When he hunted a hundred miles away from her, he could feel exactly where she was and it had always been this way. He told his Alpha that he would know her scent anywhere, had been able to follow it for miles no matter the rains trying to wash it away or other scents that worked to mask it. It had been this way for him even as a child. He told his father he could prove it. He said that he would know the vibration of her howl, deep within his heart, and that he would know her heartbeat from dozens of others, even if he could not actually hear either aloud. He said that he could touch her skin with the tip of his finger and know it was hers he was touching, even if he could not see or smell her.

The Chief decided to test Pamuya and told him that if what he said were true, it could be proven. On the next full moon, Hakidonmuya was going to be led far away into the forest, covered in cloak flowers so that her scent would be untraceable. Pamuya would wear a covering for his eyes, his ears and nose stuffed with mud and his oldest brother would accompany him, playing a loud drum to drown out all noises further. Even if Pamuya found her in the forest, there would still be one last test. Hakidonmuya and other unmated females of the pack would line up before him, surrounded by cloak flowers. Still unable to see, hear or smell, Pamuya would be directed to touch the tip of each of their noses, with one claw and tell which one is Hakidonmuya. If he did not reach her and if he did not select her correctly, he would agree to marry who his father had chosen as his mate.

Upon the next full moon, Pamuya and Hakidonmuya’s love was put to the test. Stumbling through the dense forest, guided only by the moon pulling him toward Hakidonmuya, Pamuya made it to her. They were not allowed to speak or touch, and his brother did not stop playing the drums as they made their way back to their pack. Once there, Pamuya, exhausted from all he’d gone through, could hardly lift his finger to touch each girl’s nose before him. He didn’t need much strength though because the moon once again guided him. He heard the drum beat morph into his mate’s heartbeat the moment he touched her nose. He declared that it was Hakidonmuya and though the Chief-Alpha asked him if he were certain of his choice, possibly to make Pamuya doubt himself, Pamuya held no doubt.

Pamuya and Hakidonmuya were married the next full moon and were blessed with many children. Their children were equally blessed and over the years as they mated with other packs and the lore spread, soon those with the Wiyot blood in their veins were never to be denied their choice of mate. It is said that their pack instincts were stronger than any other blood-line. There was no doubt in their mind that when they married their partner and exchanged bites, their own would not heal until the saliva of their mate caused it to. They did not have to test the bond or be marked first to know that they had chosen correctly. All they had to do was feel the moon pulling them to their mate, which alone would be enough.

Hundreds of years later, no pack carried the Wiyot name and only a few in existence could accurately claim being of their blood. The pack that had the strongest ties to the Wiyots, and who were known to have the purest of all Wiyot blood within them was the Rosewood pack of Sacramento. When a Rosewood chose their mate, no one would ever challenge them for their pick, especially not Derek Hale who had the absolute worst luck when it came to relationships.

The loss of Sofia Rosewood-Stilinski was not narrowed down to the moment in time when she took her last breath. It was not the series of events immediately preceding, or the cause of her death. It was a heavy dose of emotional poison, administered like an invisible IV into Stiles’ body, diluted just enough to not physically kill him. It was a suffocating companion to his every thought, to every word he spoke and he felt the tug of the IV line and the steady drip of toxin in every breath he took. Life since had been a seemingly endless tsunami of denial, guilt and absolute agony. Time had appeared to slow down without his wife’s presence in his life, but at the same time, Stiles thought that every second that passed without her, signaled the reality of time passing too quickly. 

 

~*~

 

Stiles met Sofia during Freshmen Orientation week at California State University. It was his third day away from home, parted from everything and everyone he’d ever known. His roommate pushed him to check out the quad where all the clubs had set up to entice new students to join them. Sofia and her brother, Henry, had been sitting behind a table with a purple poster proclaiming it to be the place to sign up for the Mythology Club. 

He was acutely aware of them staring him down and noticed that both their noses were crinkled. He instinctively knew that they had caught his scent, along with the other scents of the Hale pack he carried. When he saw both of their eyes flash gold, for just a half of a second, appearing to just be effects of the sunshine hitting their eyes, it confirmed to him that they were werewolves. A pair of werewolves running a Mythology Club was perhaps the best thing Stiles had ever encountered in his life, so of course he promptly introduced himself and signed up to be a member of their club. With Sofia it wasn’t love at first sight, there was never a big declaration of love, but one night she kissed him and after that, they were together. 

As a graduation present; Sofia’s family gave her a sizable sum to be used for the down payment on a house. This led to them both making a lot of decisions in a short period of time. Sofia had been offered a job part-time at a small architect firm located in Durham, fifteen minutes from Beacon Hills, but she also had a full-time job prospect at a larger firm in Modesto. Sofia could still be a part of her pack in Sacramento if she chose to take the job in Modesto. It made sense for her to buy a home close to her job, but that would mean that once Stiles graduated from CSU, certain they would still be together then, he would either have to move to Modesto with her, or they would be commuting two and a half hours to see one another if she chose the latter. 

Sofia was a wreck trying to figure out what to do and confessed to Stiles that she felt like all the decisions were up to her and she wanted him to make one, or she’d be making one he wouldn’t like. Stiles felt overwhelmed with the idea of losing Sofia, so he asked her to marry him. Sofia’s reply had been a question, “Is this also an official request for me to join the Hale pack?” 

The marriage proposal hadn’t been an official request, but it became one. They talked to Derek and the rest of the Hale pack, along with Sofia’s parents and her Uncle Brogan, the Alpha of the Sacramento pack. The Rosewoods had once been allied with the Hale’s, but after the house fire had killed most of the Hales, and until Sofia and Stiles met, they hadn’t had the opportunity to renew alliances. It was once again formed and though it was rare for a born werewolf to join their human partner’s pack, the Rosewoods accepted Sofia’s decision to join the Hale pack in Beacon Hills. 

Within a month, Sofia had started the job in Durham, became a part of the Hale pack and she and Stiles began house hunting. They shared the dream of having a large family, so with that in mind, they bought a six bedroom, five bath house on the outskirts of Beacon Hills, not far from the reserve. Stiles continued living in the dorms at CSU during the week, but made the hour and a half drive back to Beacon Hills every Friday, and back again to Sacramento on Monday mornings.

Stiles secured a job at Beacon Hills Elementary, months before his graduation from CSU, and he and Sofia set a wedding date for that summer. Their daughter Danika came along in April of the next year, a honeymoon baby. The following year, in July their son, Arek was born and in October of the next year, they welcomed their daughter, Klaudia. Their lives were a mix of happy and hectic, but Stiles hadn’t had a moment to spare to think that anything would ever change it. 

If he had worried, it was only because of the many supernatural creatures that seemed to flock to Beacon Hills, though most turned out to be harmless nowadays. It became a rare occurrence to see any serious supernatural related trouble in Beacon Hills. The Hales were now a well-respected, powerful pack. They were also in alliance and shared blood with the Rosewoods, the oldest and largest pack in California, and the third largest in the United States. Stiles felt content with his marriage, family and his role as Derek's second in the pack. His life wasn’t the exciting and terrifying roller-coaster ride it once had been and his relationship with Sofia wasn’t the passion-fueled romance Scott, Danny and Lydia proclaimed to have with their spouses, but it was a good life.

It was summer break and there were a few weeks left before school began again. Stiles stayed at home with the kids, while Sofia took on a fuller work load, going from part-time to full-time at the firm. That particular day, she left for work earlier than usual because her boss and the rest of her team were driving up to the airport in Chico to meet a client. The client wanted his new home built to blend in with the sunrise as it shone across the large plot of empty land he’d purchased. Stiles had teased Sofia about it when she first told him the client’s reasons for wanting her team to fly over his land at sunrise. He continued to tease her as he stood in the open doorway holding their youngest child, while he watched his wife get into her car. 

With the exception of her leaving for work hours early, the day seemed like it would progress as any other late-summer day. Stiles would feed Klaudia her bottle, change her diaper and get a small nap in on the couch with her before Arek and Danika woke up. After, he’d cook them all breakfast and they’d drive to Derek’s to spend most of the day in his pool and visit with other members of their pack who dropped by. 

Sofia would call Stiles an hour before she expected to be home, Derek would help him pack the kids into the car and they would nap while he drove. Once home, Stiles would get them settled with toys or movies while he cooked. Sophia would come home and they’d eat dinner together, give the children baths and put them to bed. Sometimes Sophia and Stiles would stay up late talking, playing video games or doing what parents did behind closed doors. Then they would wake up and start the day all over again.

Stiles never imagined that humans, void of malicious intent, would be the cause for all of that to end.

Two minutes in the air, the pilot sent a mayday out, but there had been no other distress call from the pilot due to the electrical systems failing and moments later the engines cut out. The crash itself, Sofia may have been able to survive if the plane hadn’t careened into a chemical building. The explosion from the plane’s full gas tank combined with the chemicals in the building mirrored small bombs. There had been no employees at the building so early, but all five people in the airplane had practically disintegrated within the first plume of chemical fire.

When Stiles first read Sophia’s obituary, he felt overcome with shock when his name was listed after the words ‘survived by’, because he was certain that he had died that day too. Even though he was still breathing, who he had been in the twilight of that day, a husband kissing his wife goodbye, that person hadn’t survived even the sunrise.

To Be Continued in Chapter One


	2. "Disconnect"

Chapter One: "Disconnect"

 _“All things are connected like the blood that unites us. We do not weave the web of life, we are merely a strand in it. Whatever we do to the web, we do to ourselves.”_ ~ Chief Seattle 

When everything changed, there was no excitement to be felt in Stiles’ life. The shock and grief he felt came upon him so strongly he lacked the capacity to deal with it. It was both a blessing and a curse that everyone in his life told him what the right or wrong way was to do _everything_ that needed doing right after Sophia's death. He swung between awareness and mind-numbing pain so often that he barely functioned doing even the daily tasks that were usually mindless ones.

Marcus, Sophia’s father, insisted on holding her services in Sacramento. Stiles couldn’t even figure out how to form words in protest, nor speak up to remind the man that Sophia had been _his_ wife and a member of the Hale pack. He couldn’t fathom telling Marcus that he was the one, by law and entrusted with Sophia’s wishes, who had the right to plan it all the way they’d once discussed. Stiles may have remained frozen about those things, but he was all too aware of the lifetime of happiness he thought he’d have with her abruptly ending. Still, even though he felt it was his duty to do as she wanted, he could not explain to anyone why he wanted her service held in the place they had shared their life. When his pack asked him questions, he could do little more than nod his head, or hide from them in his bedroom or car and cry. When it became clear that Marcus had no intention of asking his opinions on the type of service Sophia wanted, Stiles gave up complete control of her funeral.

The small amount of remains of Sophia that had been recovered had not been cremated like they planned. Instead, she was placed in a closed casket and lowered into the ground next to where Sophia’s mother had been buried not two years earlier. Stiles breathed life through a daze of grief during the week-long preparations. Everyone in the Rosewood pack treated him and his children well, but they also kept saying how good it was that Sophia would be buried ‘at home’, beside her mother and it killed him every time he heard it. 

Stiles had wanted to protest that notion, because nothing about what they were doing was good. Sophia shouldn’t be dead, she didn’t want to be buried at all, and if she had to be, it shouldn’t have been next to her mother in Sacramento. Sophia was a mother and her children deserved to have her memorial close by, not a hundred miles away. Afraid that he wouldn’t be able to hold back if he spoke a single word against it, Stiles kept all of that inside him, and didn’t allow his anger to show in front of any of the Rosewood pack. By the time he and the Hale pack left Sacramento and returned to Beacon Hills, he came to the decision that it would be best for everyone if he found a way to continue to keep it all inside.

  
  
~*~

“Stiles, wake up.”

Stiles moaned and swatted at the hand he felt shaking his shoulder. “Liyya! Limme ‘lone. Iss us wanna sweep.”

“Well,” Lydia said and shook him rougher, “if you want to sweep, that’s perfectly fine. Wake up and do it, because there is a bunch of broken pieces of things that need to be cleaned up.”

Stiles’ head throbbed from the loud tone of Lydia’s voice. “Go oooh… You do errythin’ fo me. Fanks.”

“We’re not doing everything for you anymore.” A loud gruff voice spoke.

“It isn’t helping you, Stiles.” This was spoken in a pleading, crackling tone.

Scott spoke in a quiet whimper, “He needs to wake up first and then we’ll start…”

“He needs to clean himself up, this house and his life!” A roaring voice boomed.

“Nooo!” Stiles swatted at another rougher hand that was shaking him. The voices other than Lydia and Scott were definitely familiar, but he was too fucked up, his brain a mix of mush and dynamite, to decipher who else was in the room. He snuggled closer to the pillow and painstakingly drew the blanket up over his head. “Come… back… later,” he spoke slow, hoping his proper speech would get his point across. 

This wasn’t how things went. The pack didn’t just show up at his house without calling and they never woke him up because they understood that he needed his sleep whenever he could get it. They definitely didn’t come into his house and demand him to clean. They understood that for now he needed to be alone, that he needed to be… away. Away from everything. Away from everyone.

The third day back in Beacon Hills, after the funeral, Stiles found himself unable to look at, hold, or have a will to care for his children. They were all near-mirror images of him, barely retained any of Sophia’s likenesses or qualities, so it wasn’t as if when he looked at them it felt painful because he saw her. No, when Stiles looked at his children, it was painful because he was reminded that Sophia would never see them grow up and they would never see her, never really know her. A week of going to the bathroom, and turning on the faucets to cover his screaming each time their presence overwhelmed him, drove him to seek out professional help. The doctor he saw prescribed him a sleeping aid which Stiles instantly fell in love with, and it only took him two weeks to go through his month-long prescription.

Stiles treasured the pills, relied on how easy it was to feel nearly pain-free whenever he took them and the restful sleep he got because of them was almost unnervingly blissful. They caused the stifling fog of grief to turn into a sedated fog that settled over everything, numbing him. It was so good to no longer have crippling anxiety overpower his conscious mind, and it was even better to not lose his voice due to screaming. While the drugs were in his system when he did look at his children, he didn’t think of Sophia, but that was because he didn’t really think of much outside himself at all. 

Derek, his father and Melissa, and other members of the pack were helping to care for the kids, and Stiles trusted that they knew what was best for them. He didn’t really know what was best for his children anymore. He didn’t know what best for himself even, except for the which was definitely good for him. Unfortunately there was the problem with the fact that he’d taken the whole prescription much too quickly. It wasn’t a problem for long. Though Stiles couldn’t think all that clearly, his smart wit came through when he became desperate. He called his doctor and told her that he’d lost the bottle of pills and added that it was likely in one of the boxes with his wife’s belongings that he’d packed up and put in storage. The double-edged blatant lie worked and after agreeing to be more careful with the medicine given the fact that there were children in his home, the doctor phoned in another prescription to the pharmacy. 

The sleeping aid made his heart beat slow and steady, which gave Stiles the added advantage of being able to lie to his pack when needed. He didn’t like lying, but he had to now, he had to lie or he was sure that he might die. He lied to everyone, telling them all that he needed time alone, to heal and to deal. He allowed the pack to take control of not only his children, but of his finances, too. They made his house payments, paid the electric, trash and water bills and budgeted money for daycare and groceries. He knew when the pack was scheduled to come by his home and he would prepare himself to engage with them, showering and pulling on nice clothes, and making sure to steady his voice and enunciate properly if he spoke. He always asked questions about his kids or other people in the pack to deflect attention away from himself and it seemed to work, maybe because nobody wanted to upset him.

Stiles didn’t want to die. Not in a fiery inferno like Sophia or Derek’s family, or from a rapid-spreading cancer like Sophia’s mom had. He definitely didn’t want to experience an ever diminishing mind and appetite for life; dying barely knowing himself or his loved ones, the way his mother had. Everything he was doing felt necessary, even if it meant for the time being he couldn’t be a father to his children. They would be all right; they had the pack and one day, when it didn’t hurt so much to think clearly, they would have him again.

He didn’t want to orphan his children. If he didn’t have the pills, he was certain that would happen. People couldn’t actually be in as much pain as he was in without the aid of medicine to numb it, and live through it. It just couldn’t be possible. He had to take measures that would ensure his survival.

Stiles realized that the new prescription would not last as long as he needed it to because he’d quickly built a tolerance to them and took them more than the recommended twice a day. Stiles had to find a way to make the feeling the drug gave him stretch. After he fulfilled whatever daily duties the pack scheduled for him, lying to whomever it was that was last on duty to see him, Stiles would take the five minute walk to the general store and buy a pint of Jack to help him get through the night. This routine seemed silly after the first month, and by month two, Stiles bought as many fifths as he could carry in a backpack, enough to last a month, and then he didn’t even have to leave the house anymore.

He didn’t know why he didn’t want to leave the house when the stories it told him in the dead of the night were some of the causes for his pain. Still, the more time he spent inside of it, the idea of going outside became much worse. He had wound many lies, telling one pack member he’d been out to the store with another, never really able to keep straight who had done what in his mind from one day to the next. It hadn’t appeared to ever matter to whomever he was talking to though, they just listened to him and gave him encouraging looks. Everyone around him seemed so eager to help him and careful to not force him to do anything he didn’t want to do.

But that had changed.

At some point.

Was it last week?

Was it yesterday?

Did it happen last night? Stiles moaned as he strained to think of last night and remembered something about Thanksgiving and saw a flash of Derek’s angry face.

“Son, you need to get up. You need to get a shower and sober up.”

Stiles realized that was his father speaking to him. It was a weekday, wasn’t it, if Thanksgiving was yesterday? Why wasn’t his father at work? Did he have Thanksgiving dinner? Maybe he ate too much and that was why he felt so queasy. Did he have anything to be thankful for? “The kids?” he blurted, worried, but still kept his face against the pillow.

“The kids are fine,” a female voice said, this one Stiles thought he recognized as Kristina’s. “They’re with Tanisha and Madison.”

Kristina, Stiles thought to himself hazily. She and Sophia had been best friends. Tanisha was his good friend and they spent a lot of time doing research together. Madison was…. Madison was… “Who’s Masison?”

“Stiles!” Lydia said sharply and pulled the pillow away from him. “Stop this, you’re scaring me.”

Stiles jerked and turned his face away from the light and groaned in pain. “Sssstop! Go take care of ‘em fur me Lydyaah. I non’t know Masey.”

“Not Masey! It’s Madison. You know who Madison is!” Lydia exclaimed. “You met her at the daycare when Danika was a baby. You introduced her to Tanisha and you chose to bring her into ‘the know’, into our pack. She’s a good friend to you.”

“No,” Stiles groaned. “No, don’t know Mans…. Mason.”

“Her name is Madison,” Lydia cried. “I can’t believe that you’re so messed up you don’t remember someone you used to see every day. This is ridiculous. You need to get up now, Stiles. I mean it.” She began pulling on his arm.

“No!” He yelled and roughly pushed her away.

At once, Stiles felt strong hands grip his shoulders and he was being flung off whatever it was he had been sleeping on. He landed face first onto cold hard wood, but before he could even think about yelling at whoever had done that to him, he began to throw up. He heaved and yelled through it, his head pounded and his heart raced, while tears of frustration and physical pain fell scalding hot down his face. At some point, someone had lifted him up, pulling his body into a seated position and held him around the waist and a bucket was placed before him. He couldn’t really see to be sure he was throwing up in it, didn’t have control of any part of his body to know if he was leaning over it enough, because his body was shaking so much.

When he finished expelling what was in his stomach, dry heaves started and Stiles could no longer handle the feeling of being unable to breathe. His brain shut down and the little he could see; the too bright light, and the legs of people standing around him, it all faded to black.

  
  
~*~

Stiles came to in the master bathroom’s shower stall, groggy but somewhat more sober. He wasn’t sitting in the seat Sophia had used when she shaved her legs. For some reason his thoughts strayed to how glad he was that he hadn’t been put there, because he could hardly lift his head and probably would’ve fallen off it and done worse damage than he must have already done to himself. His right hand was bandaged around the knuckles, though it was now sopping wet and the hot water blasting on him made the injury sting. He tried to think about how he’d gotten injured and vaguely remembered being woken up by Lydia, and his father, and… Stiles shuddered as he tasted left-over bile in his mouth, confirming that he had in fact thrown up. That didn’t explain the injury to his hand though and upon closer inspection he saw that the fingers of both hands had blood underneath the nails.

“You did that last night.”

Stiles looked up toward the voice and saw Scott, standing in a pair of wet boxers near the other end of the shower. “Huh?” That really was the best he could manage at this point.

Scott gave him a cautious expression as he walked closer and then squatted before him. “Your living room and your master bedroom are wrecked. You threw around a ton of stuff. That you got from destroying your bed.”

“Mah… my bed?” Stiles didn’t understand this. Why would he have gotten injured throwing around bedding? It didn’t make any sense.

“You punched the frame quite a few times by the looks of your hands. You managed to almost split it in half, knocked a bunch of the rungs off, and threw the nightstands at it,” Scott elaborated.

“I did that?” Stiles asked, breath catching. He could remember a little, particularly throwing the nightstand, but he didn’t remember punching the headboard.

“Yeah, you did. Come on, I’ll help you get up and take those wet clothes off.”

Stiles looked down at his t-shirt and pajamas pants, though the shower must have done some good, he could still see traces of vomit on them. He tried to move his arms to do it himself, but Scott was already there helping him. “Thanks.” He leaned off the wall as much as he could and tried to help as Scott drew the tee up his torso and over his arms. Scott watched him as he got his legs under him and walked to the bench. He pulled his pants off and sat down as Scott pulled the sopping wet material away from his legs.

“Can you keep yourself there?” Scott asked.

Stiles’ entire body ached inside and out, but he didn’t feel too woozy and his legs had felt strong. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“You will be.” Scott grabbed a bottle of shower gel and a loofah from the shelf above Stiles’ head. “Here.” He handed Stiles the loofah after putting soap on it. “Do your body and I’ll be nice to you and wash your hair.”

“Thanks,” Stiles said again, a little overcome with the rush of emotion he felt for his best friend. It wasn’t weird to have Scott caring for him like this. They became brothers long before his father married Scott’s mother. Scott had seen him naked plenty of times in the showers during high school and the occasional times they went skinny dipping in the lake. More recently, when they’d gone out for a hike and Stiles had taken a fall and a jagged piece of rock had sliced into his upper thigh, Scott had no choice but to get up close and personal when he had to stop the bleeding. He felt comfortable and cared for, loved and he’d forgotten what that was like.

“Close your eyes,” Scott directed, once Stiles had finished washing his body. He began to lather Stiles’ hair and then used the handheld shower head to rinse it off.

Stiles knew his body wasn’t scrubbed as well as he usually did it, but his movements had been a little bit sloppy and he didn’t really care to do a more detailed job. It wasn’t like anyone would be inspecting his skin. Other than Scott just now, nobody would be getting close to his naked body for a very long time. Possibly ever again.

“I’m finished, you can open your eyes,” Scott directed.

Stiles wiped his eyes with his fingers, opened them and gave Scott a grateful smile. “You’re the best.”

“You too.”

Stiles felt even more grateful toward him for not drawing attention to the tears he startlingly realized were falling down his face. Stiles knew he could probably play them off as being part of the shower spray, but his eyes always became bloodshot when he cried, and Scott knew that. He didn’t want to have to explain his emotions to anyone, not when he couldn’t fully understand them himself.

“Come on,” Scott said and held his arm out for Stiles to take as he stood. “I want to hug you, dude.” He laughed. “I don’t think I can do that with you naked and me in my boxers. That might be a little too much for our friendship.”

Stiles smiled and felt shocked a split-second later when he realized he’d made a noise that sounded like laughter. He quickly shut his mouth and gripped onto Scott’s arm as they exited the shower stall. “Did you manage to find clean towels?” He wasn’t completely sober, but his speech was better and his thoughts much clearer.

“Olivia grabbed us the ones from the guest bath,” Scott answered.

Stiles stepped onto the heated tile of the bathroom floor. “Olivia is here too?”

Scott handed Stiles two of the towels from the warmer rack and nodded. “Most of the pack is here, except the children and a couple who couldn’t get out of work.”

Stiles wrapped his head in one of the towels and dried his body with the other. His mind reeled and worry laced embarrassment rose from within him. “They all saw me throw up?” The details of being woken up were still a bit hazy, but he was sure that he made a complete ass of himself and hated that he must have done so in front of the pack.

“No, they weren’t all here for that,” Scott assured as he dried off. “It was just Allison, your Dad, Lydia, Isaac, Derek and Kristina and me.”

“Oh.” That was still far too many people for his liking.

“You were saying that you didn’t know Madison,” Scott said, wrapping his towel around his waist and then shimmying out of his wet shorts. “It scared the shit out of Lydia. She... We… All of us…” Scott gulped. “All of us are scared.”

“You don’t need to be,” Stiles said. He took off the wet bandages, discarded them in the trash and winced as he saw the deep cuts. “Now why Madison? Why wouldn’t I know Madison? Was this last night or today?” He hoped that he hadn’t done something like this during Thanksgiving dinner or something.

Scott paused in place while hanging his shorts up over the shower door and looked at Stiles sadly. “You really don’t remember that?”

“No,” Stiles whispered, his sore shoulders slumping.

“It only happened like a half an hour ago or something. It was right before you puked and then I brought you up here to clean up. You were really out of it after you threw up though so… I guess you were before that, too.”

“Oh.”

“You don’t remember Kristina saying that the kids were with Tanisha and Maddy?”

Stiles didn’t. “No.”

Scott sucked in a rush of breath and pasted on a smile. “Well, okay I’m getting cold. I’m gonna go see if Allison got my gym bag out of the car yet,” he said. “She probably didn’t want to bring it up and interrupt us. I placed your clean pajamas over there. I was going to get you real clothes, but you don’t really have much of anything that looked comfortable besides jersey shorts and it’s too cold for those.”

“Thanks.” Stiles looked to where Scott had placed his pajamas. They were on the small vanity’s bench seat. He didn’t remember ever taking all of Sophia’s make-up, lotions, and hair products from the vanity’s surface, but they were all gone now. Had he broken those too? Had he really packed up Sophia’s things and not simply lied about it to the doctor? All of these questions and blank spots in his mind were beginning to freak him out. Scratch that, they weren’t beginning to, he _was_ freaked out. Hell, he was fucking terrified! He had been doing and saying things that he didn’t remember!

“You don’t have to keep thanking me,” Scott said. He held Stiles’ eyes and told him, “You are my brother and I love you and want to help you. Be right back to help you down the stairs, okay?”

Stiles walked gingerly, but easily made it over to his clothes as he said, “Thank you, Scott. And I’m sorry. I really mean that.”

“I know you do, man,” Scott told him. “Everything will be okay soon. You’ll see. Things will get better because they can’t stay the way they are right now. You know that, too.”

Stiles’ didn’t have to be a werewolf to detect the lie in Scott’s statement and also the loaded weight that carried a tone of warning in his voice. He couldn’t deal with this. He couldn’t. Stiles’ eyes flickered over to the medicine cabinet where he kept the sleeping pills If he could just take one for now, it would definitely help with the aches in his body. “Could you maybe just…” He faced Scott and gave him the puppy dog expression Scott had given him a million times. “Can you just ask everyone to leave? You could stay, but I don’t want so many people here. Not if things are going to get better and I know you understand the way I feel. You thought Allison had died, remember? You lived for six weeks, thinking she was dead when she wasn’t. You know better than anyone that I need to do this my way.”

Scott scowled and his eyes flashed yellow. “No, Stiles. I won’t tell them all to leave and I won’t let you manipulate me or distract me from what I know you are thinking about right now. I’ll forgive you for this later, I’m sure I will…” Scott stepped up to Stiles and glared at him. “Don’t you ever, _ever_ , try to use what you… what happened to Allison as a way to get me to do what you want!”

“I… I wasn’t,” Stiles scoffed and turned away from Scott.

“You were,” Scott grit out and made his way toward the door of the bathroom. “And those pills aren’t in that cabinet anymore, I flushed them!”

Everything would be okay. He had another hiding spot, so it would be okay. He would get them as soon as Scott went downstairs. “I was just looking to see if I need to shave!” he called out.

Scott snorted. “Dude, you didn’t need to look into the mirror to see that. You’re more scraggly than any of us are in our were forms. But I don’t think that’s a good idea. Your hands are shaking so badly you’d probably slice your neck open.”

Stiles dismissed Scott and went back to dressing.

“You won’t find the pills anywhere,” Scott said as he exited the bathroom, his tone loud but firm. “We took them all and we called your doctor and told her you were abusing them. We also disposed of all the booze in the house.”

Stiles spun around so fast the world titled and the anger, pain and anxiety he felt bubbling within came out in a scream that would rival any of the wolves’ howls.

  
  
~*~

He’d only been out of the shower for a half an hour and already he felt like he needed another. The sweat, which he refused to acknowledge, was due to withdrawal and got worse by the second. He knew that his pack loved him, loved his children, which was evident in the stories they all told him after spending any amount of time with them and in the simple fact that they were here now. All the love in the world from them couldn’t soothe his pain and he felt like he was going to fly into a million pieces if it didn’t subside soon.

“…and that you shall find peace if you…”

“Who else have you told about this?” Stiles interrupted, glaring at Scott as his friend had began quoting some vague words of advice Deaton had given him.

“Uh…” Scott stammered. “Stiles I haven’t…”

“Who else knows that I’m fucking fucked up?” Stiles asked and looked around the room at his pack. “Am I going to be town gossip?” He eyed Tanisha who had arrived in the middle of the ‘intervention’. “Have you been reporting to your cousins?”

“Stiles!” Derek and his father yelled at him in unison.

Stiles didn’t even flinch. “Did you tell Marcus that I’ve been doing a shit job as a human raising his werewolf grandchildren?”

“No!” Tanisha growled. “You know damn well that I wouldn’t do that. I may be related to them by blood, but you knew them longer than I ever did. You’re my friend, Stiles.” She looked at Derek, her eyes flashing yellow for a second. “Derek is my Alpha.” She looked back and Stiles, tears now brimming. “You were the one who brought me into this pack and I am a part of this pack. I’m loyal to this pack and to you!”

“Son, you need to calm down,” Noah said from beside Stiles.

“We know you’re true to our pack and you wouldn’t betray us,” Derek told Tanisha, walking over to her and touching her arm. He then glared an alpha-red gaze at Stiles. “He knows that too. Right?”

Stiles did know that, but his brain didn’t seem to be functioning and his emotions were completely out of whack. “I do,” he said, deflating a little. “I know that. I’m sorry.”

“How you have dealt with shit so far will stay with us,” Derek told him.

“ _Our_ pack,” his father clarified, and patted his leg.

“That includes Deaton, doesn’t it?” Scott asked worriedly.

“Yes,” Derek answered through clenched teeth. “But this is not a matter that an Emissary should need to be involved in,” he told Scott pointedly.

Scott looked like he wanted to refute that, but kept his mouth shut.

Stiles wasn’t all too concerned with what was going on between Scott and Derek and stopped caring about Deaton knowing about this intervention. He was reeling at his father’s words. The Sheriff had been a member of the Hale pack long before Stiles told him about werewolves. He was Stiles’ father and by extension was given the same protection under their pack and that continued once he did find out about them. Sometimes the Sheriff would sit in on pack meetings and he often attended ceremonious events and the occasional barbecue, more so after he and Melissa began dating. Hearing his father actually say ‘our pack’, for what Stiles was certain was the first time ever; it momentarily stopped his racing heart and subdued his pain. Tears welled in his eyes as he stared at his dad and asked, “Our pack?”

“Yes,” Noah answered. “Look, kid, we aren’t ashamed of you struggling like this. You’re strong and you’ll get through it. None of us doubt that. The truth is, we should’ve stepped in before this. Derek wanted us to, but we all sort of steamrolled him out of it because we all felt a little helpless at where to begin.”

Stiles saw the white-knuckle grip his father had on his knees and felt awful. “It was for the best,” he assured him. “It was. I’m fine.”

Noah released the grip on his knees and grabbed Stiles’ hands in his own while staring at him intently. “That’s the problem, Stiles. You really think that it was for the best and you are so, so, so far from being fine. You’re strong though, so I know you will be fine one day, you just need help getting there.”

“I can’t go away. I’ve been translating that text for the Corman pack and I promised…”

“You haven’t been doing that,” Tanisha called him out on the lie. “If it needs done though, I can do it. You know I read Lupus Latin and I’d be happy to help.”

“They’ll wonder though,” Stiles insisted. “They’ll want to know why I don’t email them once a week and there will be other packs who wonder why…”

“Any that have been seeking council with you have been understanding of your need to deal with your personal life first,” Derek cut in. “They will continue to be understanding of your grief or they can cut ties with us. It doesn’t matter to me and I doubt it will even happen.”

“Our pack is one of the strongest in California,” Noah said and took Stiles’ hand. “Even if we don’t have the numbers the Rosewoods do, we’ve been tested more than any other in the last twenty-five years and we’ve managed to grow and move forward. This is just another test for the pack and we will pass it, you will triumph like you always have. If those packs have a problem with you not returning emails, calls and all the other things you do, well you wouldn’t want to be allied with an impatient pack anyhow, right?”

“You said…” Stiles gulped. “You said _our_ pack.”

Noah gave Stiles a careful smile. “Yes, we’re all under agreement that the whole pack, even those who couldn’t be here now, need to know you are going to get help. It’s important that they all realize you have made a good choice for your future.”

“But it’s not any of your business how I live my life,” Stiles said in a petulant tone, stomach cramps plaguing him and making him irritable. "This is personal, not pack business."

“Your future affects the whole pack,” Allison said. “We’re all invested in it, especially because you have three children who need you.”

“You won’t be able to help us the way you always have if you don’t find a little peace,” Gavin said. After falling in love with Danny at college, it was Stiles who helped him come to terms with his Fae heritage, which he'd hid from his adoptive parents and everyone else his whole life. “We’ve all taken your advice at least once in our lives whether it is in our personal lives or pack business.”

“We’re not asking for much,” Lydia spoke up. “We just want you to get sober and then spend two weeks being pampered, while hopefully talking this out with a therapist. The pack needs you to do this.”

“So… so this is an ultimatum? I spend two weeks at this rehab center…”

“It’s a healing retreat,” Melissa said. “It isn’t geared toward addicts. This place is for people who need peace and grief counseling.”

“Okay, so this retreat you picked out, I go there for two weeks. Or. Or what?” He looked at Derek. “Are you going to kick me out of the pack if I don’t go?”

“I would never do that!” Derek growled. “It has always been your decision if you want to be in this pack, Stiles.”

“It's not an ultimatum,” Olivia assured him, her usually boisterous voice soft. “Stiles, this is your pack telling you what you’ve been missing out on with your kids and with us. We were trying to show you how you’ve hurt yourself and us and we’re still standing by you.”

Isaac moved so he sat on the coffee table directly in front of Stiles. “This is your pack reminding you that if you want to live and be a good father to your children, there’s no need to make another choice.”

“You need help, dude,” Jackson said. “When my dad died last year, you helped me deal with it when I wasn’t able to on my own. I don’t know how to help you, other than to encourage you to go to this place. Go find a little bit of peace there if you can and get some help to deal with the grief you feel.”

“But the kids…” Stiles began and sighed. “I can’t leave them again.”

“We’ll look after them,” Derek said. “We have been this whole time.”

“The time it takes for you to get sober and the two weeks you’re at the retreat isn’t going to hurt them,” Kristina said. “It’s going to help them.”

“Stiles, if you don’t go,” Scott spoke. “I’m scared that the Rosewoods will come here and if they see how you are now, they might want to take your children from us.”

“Away from you,” Allison said. “They’ve already lost a mother, Stiles. They can’t lose their father too.”

“I hate to say this,” Danny spoke up. “But I don’t think a judge would favor you for custody, not as you are right now, Stiles.”

Danny was a lawyer and specialized in family law. Stiles could tell that he wasn’t only saying it to scare him. None of his pack had said what they had to scare or hurt him and as confused as he was, he knew that with certainty.

“Stiles, if there is one thing I know for sure, it’s that you can do this,” Lydia said earnestly. “You can make it through this shitty time. I know you can because you love your kids and you know that you’re a great man that’s been through too much to give up now.”

The truth was, he wasn’t fit to be a father in his current condition and he couldn’t continue doing things the way he had been going about them. The pills and booze had been a selfish way for him to deal with his own pain, and he’d ignored _his_ children and their loss. He had ignored his children when he was the only parent they had left. He had disappointed his pack, lied to them and hurt them while they cared for his children and gave them the love and support during the worst time in their lives, when he could not. Stiles couldn’t let that continue. He had to step up and be a good father again. Dealing with his own feelings would have to come second after being there for his children. He wasn’t going to give up now and if a couple of weeks at the retreat might help him move forward, there really was no reason to say no. “Okay. Okay. I’ll go.”

  
  
~*~

Stiles was on the road to recovery after detoxing for a week’s time at home, though he still had some time to go before his body was back to normal. Various members of the pack were with him around the clock, spoke to him encouragingly and reminded him of his children’s well-being whenever Stiles wanted to give up. He felt better quicker than he expected, likely due to all the care the pack gave him and the amazing pain reliever the wolves doled out to him in small doses during the worst of the detox process. After a week of getting hydrated and eating semi-regular meals and walking around the block for exercise, he felt almost normal.

The retreat, though Melissa had assured him of it before he left, was not a stale, cold medical facility as he had feared. It was located in Napa Valley and the view alone was enough to inspire peaceful thoughts. His second day at the retreat, he began speaking to a man named Max, a therapist who specialized in grief and trauma therapy. It was unexpectedly easy to tell the man all of his deepest and often darkest thoughts. He left out the bit about his friends actually being a pack made of up of humans, werewolves, fae, and witches, but none of those specifics mattered when it came to talking about what they meant to him. 

Most importantly, he talked about his life with Sophia and the confusion and loss he felt without her. He talked about how he wasn’t sure he could raise three children alone. He talked about how much he’d loved her and how much he missed her. He told his therapist all about what Sophia had meant to him and to his children and how he felt gutted each and every day he woke up without her breathing beside him. He was terrified that he’d never ever experience waking up beside someone ever again. He told the man all about the promises he’d made to each of his children the moment he first held them in his arms. He cried for what felt like hours as he spoke of the fact that he could never fulfill those promises now.

On the last day at the center, he sat across from Max and told him, “I don’t like that I’ve been away from my children for so long, but being here has been easier than being at home. Is that bad?”

“That isn’t bad, Stiles.” Max sighed. “You have dealt with a lot of loss for someone so young and there’s nothing wrong with recognizing the stress-free environment here.”

“I’m just a little scared.”

“Are you afraid to go home? Afraid you’ll start having nightmares again there?” Max asked.

Stiles shook his head. He wasn’t afraid to go home now. He’d spoken to his father about those particular issues last night on the phone. He and the kids would be moving in with the Sheriff and Melissa and he was going to sell the house. “No, I won’t stay there again. We’re moving in with my dad. I talked to him about it last night on the phone and he’s already got a few things moved in there for the kids.”

“That’s good. That will be a healthy comforting place to help you move forward in your life. What is it that you are scared of?”

Stiles sighed. “Just about everything else.”

The man nodded. “Tell me your biggest fear, right now. What is scaring you the most?”

Stiles didn’t have to think about it because he’d been thinking about, or running from thinking about it, for the last three months. “I’m afraid my children will never really know Sophia and that I’ll never be able to talk about her, to tell them about her, without breaking down. I’m afraid that all the things I know now, I’ll forget by the time I can talk to them, by the time they’re old enough to ask about her.”

“From what you have shared with me, you have a large group of friends, friends who are like family to you, right?”

“Yes, they are.”

“And I recall you saying that Sophia came from a large family too?”

“She did,” Stiles affirmed.

“Maybe you can rely on all of these people to talk about Sophia for you, when you cannot? Would they do that if you asked?”

Stiles thought for a moment, not knowing for sure if Sophia’s pack would, but his pack could. “The kids are not old enough to remember the things people tell them now,” Stiles said. “I know what that’s like. I know that by the time my father could say anything about my mother, he’d forgotten so much about her…” Stiles wiped away the tears falling down his face. “He forgot so much and I lost so much of her too. I was much older than my kids are now and yet I think I barely knew my mother. They won’t know Sophia at all.”

“Do you keep baby books of your children?”

“Of course we do. I mean… I… We did and I will continue too, yes.”

Max smiled softly. “Perhaps you could do something similar for your memories of Sophia?”

“A book of memories?” Stiles asked, his heart aching as he thought about writing out the freshest ones in his mind.

“Yes, but not only of your memories,” the therapist explained. “If you are able to, and this might not be possible to happen now and that is okay. When you feel strong enough to, you can ask your friends and all the people she knew to write down a memory about her. Maybe they have pictures you don’t have of her that they can share with your children or pieces of advice she gave them about life that one day may pertain to them? They can describe how they saw her and what she meant to them or how they met one another. It will be hard for them too, but they love you and they’ve been active caregivers for your children, so I’m certain they will understand that this will help them when they are old enough to ask questions about her.”

“Danika remembers Sophia now,” Stiles said. “I could… I could ask her now to tell me what it is she remembers about her, before she forgets.”

“That would probably be a very good way for you to heal with her and to let her know that she can talk about her mother with you. I know you said that you were always too scared to talk about your mother with your dad, right?”

“Sometimes I still am,” Stiles admitted. “I know it hurts him.”

“But he’d hurt more if he knew you weren’t asking about her when you wanted to.” The man looked at his watch. “Stiles, your ride home should be here in about five minutes.” Max handed him a business card from his desk. “This is the number to a therapist in Beacon Hills. I’d like you to give her a chance and if she's not a good fit, you call me and I’ll help you find someone else. You have made a lot of progress here, but I believe that you will continue to need someone to talk openly to.”

Stiles took the card in his shaking hand, feeling anxiety grip him as he realized that he would be leaving this peaceful retreat in just a few minutes and step back into the real world. “Thank you, Max. Thank you for all your help.”

“Before you go I’d like to ask you one last question,” the man said, sitting back in his chair.

Stiles nodded. “Okay.”

“You haven’t wanted to share with me the details of what your friend Scott told you, that you said hurt Derek, and I would never want to pry them out of you. In the short time we’ve been talking, you’ve gotten close to telling me about it, but you hesitate each time. I know you have written letters of thanks and apologies to your friends, Derek included. From what you have told me, you don’t believe he will easily forgive you and the idea of this causes you a lot of pain.”

“Derek won’t forgive me easily, if ever,” Stiles confirmed. “I still don’t remember what happened that night, or know everything I said to Derek because it came down to me from Scott. I know that what Derek told Scott is enough to make what I said completely unforgivable.”

“That leads me to my biggest concern for you and my question, Stiles. If Derek does not forgive you, will this impede your progress of moving forward and raising your children? If you think it will, then it may be best to cut him out of your life.”

“No,” Stiles said adamantly. He couldn’t cut Derek from his life even if he tried, though he doubted Derek would want him in his life. It was just the opposite, honestly. He was determined to better himself, to move forward and be a good father. If Derek didn’t forgive him, which was pretty much guaranteed, Stiles would only work harder, to prove to Derek that he could once again be the man he had trusted and called friend. He didn’t have to have Derek’s forgiveness to accomplish that. “I’m going to do this. I can do this and my progress won’t be affected by Derek. When the time is right, I will get Derek to tell me everything, if I still haven’t remembered for myself. For now though, I have to focus on being a good father to my kids.”

“Don’t forget yourself and your own needs,” the therapist told him. “I know it may be easier to get lost in caring for your children instead of dealing with your own feelings, but remember that burying things makes them stay where they are until your subconscious realizes they are there, festering and growing. It’s possible that you’ll want to deal with them in an unhealthy way once again if they overwhelm you. That's not the way to move forward. Take small steps and give yourself a break every now and then.”

“I’ll remember that,” Stiles assured and shook the man’s hand. “Thank you for your help.”

“You’re welcome, Stiles. I’ll be thinking of you and hoping the peace you’ve found here will help you find some when you return home.”

“I hope so, too.” Stiles took a deep breath, rose from his chair and walked out the office. As soon as he walked into the main hallway he saw his father, Melissa and the kids all waiting for him in the lobby. He smiled an easy, natural grin and took off at a run toward them. 

The moment he had all three of his children in his arms, he knew that what Max had hoped for had already come true. There was peace to be found in Beacon Hills because it was here with him now, with his children, his dad and Melissa.

To Be Continued in Chapter Two


	3. "Bridges and Boarders"

**Connected  
Chapter Two: “Bridges and Borders”**

_“How we need another soul to cling to, another body to keep us warm. To rest and trust; to give your soul in confidence: I need this, I need someone to pour myself into.”_ ~Sylvia Plath

When Scott had finally accepted Derek as his Alpha, Derek had known that he only did so out of necessity. Scott had been accepted to the University of California in San Diego, which had been a pretty big deal because most of the other reputable schools offering a Veterinary Bachelors degree had denied him admission due to his terrible test scores and grades. Deaton had earned his degree there, and it was likely his written letter of recommendation that had saved Scott from attending a community college. 

San Diego was also home to a large werewolf pack that was known to be extremely territorial. Most large packs that lived in or near large cities had highly monitored, secure open territories that other wolves could enter and exit without asking permission from the territory’s Alpha previous to their arrival. Others had their own rules for how many Betas of one pack they’d allow in their area at one time, or how long they were allowed to stay and Alphas passing through or visiting another pack’s territory always asked permission prior to their arrival. Varying pack preferences and laws could be easily obtained through one’s Alpha or the pack Emissary. If an Omega wolf wandered into another pack with open territory they were often given the option to join the pack if the Alpha chose to offer them a place, or they were told to leave immediately.

It was rare for any werewolf pack to attempt a safe passage through San Diego because they had a closed territory. Most wolves preferred to travel around it and not deal with the pack at all. Omegas were not welcome in any way and most that went into the territory, died there. Deaton had spoken to the Alpha and explained Scott's situation, but she had made it clear that an Omega would not be welcome in her pack’s territory, and definitely not for an extended stay.

At that time, Derek hadn’t even cared to have Scott in his pack. He’d learned that it would do neither of them any good if he had to force him to be his Beta. When Scott had come to him and explained his situation with school, Derek had been tempted to turn Scott down just to prove the point he’d tried to make to Scott for years; wolves need to belong to a pack and can’t survive without one. Instead, he’d done what was right. He accepted Scott as his Beta and told him that when he returned from school, if he no longer wanted to be a part of his pack, he would break their bond.

Four years later, Scott had returned to Beacon Hills to work at Deaton’s practice and had, a week later, come to Derek and told him that he would not leave the pack. They still to this day, butted heads fifty percent of the time, but they had truly become what Derek had told Scott they were already years before, brothers. Derek had even attended Scott and Allison’s wedding, though it had been a very small affair. The only other Argent in attendance, besides the bride, had been her father. Shortly after, on Stiles, Scott and Allison’s insistence the Hale pack and Chris Argent had begun to work together.

Though Derek and Scott’s relationship had grown into brotherhood, they weren’t nearly as close as Stiles and Derek had become before Stiles went off to college, and nowhere near as close as they became when Stiles came back. Meeting Sophia had been a gut-wrenching experience for Derek, but he’d grown to love Stiles so deeply by then, in a way that was far from being purely platonic, that he couldn’t fathom doing anything to upset him. He’d known, with the way Stiles looked at her during their first meeting over Christmas break, that Sophia wasn’t going anywhere.

Still, he talked to Stiles on the phone every few days, listened to him go on and on about Sophia and he had even given him advice for his first time with her. When they came to ask him to please include Sophia into the Hale pack, he had accepted. Derek hadn’t buried his feelings for Stiles to the point that he hadn’t recognized that his acceptance of Sophia as his Beta was of personal benefit to him. He wanted Stiles happy, but that hadn’t meant he was willing to see him be happy with Sophia in another pack and in a place that was not Beacon Hills.

After Stiles and Sophia had married, there was time in between college and the start of Stiles’ teaching career for Derek to spend time alone with Stiles. Sophia spent her day working, while Stiles and he worked together to create a Hale family history book. They had scoured the internet and asked all their contacts for information regarding the Hales and compiled it all. There had been a lot of pieces of history missing, lineage that didn’t make sense and other bits of conflicting information that made Derek regret ever starting the project. It had been a challenge more often than not to tell Stiles the stories of their pack traditions, but Stiles had been patient with him as he awaited each word Derek spoke.

Already in high school, there had came a point when Stiles had learnt that sometimes Derek needed silence in the same way that Stiles needed to fill it. Derek would get upset by something they found and he would see Stiles struggling against his nature to say something, to maybe even crack a joke to lighten the mood, but he would remain silent until Derek next spoke. Just because Derek had hidden his feelings from Stiles and stopped imagining a future with him as his mate, it hadn’t meant that Derek stopped loving him. No, Derek fell more in love with Stiles every single day. At the end of that summer, they had a good portion of the Hale family history written out and Derek couldn’t have thought of a better person to have had by his side while he encompassed himself in his childhood memories. He loved his sister, Cora, but she was even more averse to talking about their past than he was.

Time went on and Derek had bonded with Stiles more each day. One day they had been relaxing in the sun on the lounge chairs around Derek’s pool and Stiles had turned to look at him and said, ‘I think you’re my best friend, now. I don’t know how that happened, but it did. I can have two best friends, or three counting Sophia. But sometimes I think you understand me the best.’ Stiles had slipped off his chair and dived into the pool right afterward, not waiting for Derek to say anything in return, probably knowing that Derek wouldn’t. Confessions from Stiles like that one made Derek feel raw and vulnerable for a while afterward. There had been hundreds of wonderful moments with Stiles that had trumped all those unintentional hurtful ones, but Derek would often replay the painful ones in his mind whenever he would start to consider telling Stiles what he really meant to him.

Sophia’s presence and influence in Stiles’ life had also been a damn good reminder for him to forget about his ridiculous ideas of confessing his love. It would’ve been great for Derek if he could’ve hated her the first time they met, but he hadn’t. She and Stiles had shown up for the Christmas party Lydia had forced him to throw, dressed in clothes that had made them both look like they had just left a photo shoot. Derek had almost cheered inside because in his opinion a woman who looked that good and forced Stiles into clothing like that, could not possibly be the fantastic down to earth person Stiles had told him all about. Then she had seen him, tilted her neck to the side for a moment to acknowledge his authority, before walking over to wrap her arms around him in a big hug. Sophia had giggled and told him how happy she was to finally meet him, because Stiles talked about him all the time. Within ten seconds of meeting her, Derek had sensed exactly the type of person she was and unfortunately for him, Sophia was all the good things Stiles had said she was.

When Sophia had come to live in Beacon Hills while Stiles was still at college, she had spent a lot of time with the pack and eventually she had become a good friend to Derek as well. Derek had never been comfortable telling her the personal things he shared with Stiles, and he had hated that she often talked of setting him up with friends, but Sophia’s charming personality had made it easy for them to get along and she had always shown respect for Derek. Derek had had to respect Sophia and Stiles’ marriage. Little by little, thoughts of what he felt for Stiles was kept at bay and if he relapsed, he only had to berate himself for a couple of moments before he remembered how wrong his feelings were.

Now those feelings were back and it wasn’t just sexual impulsivity that was torturing Derek. Those brutally intense, instinctual needs had uncovered the years of love that Derek had forced himself to believe had all just been a crush. It was Christmas Eve and this was the first year that Derek was not hosting a pack party at his home. A lot of the pack had made plans that took them out of town, state or country and Scott and Allison had offered to host the party for the remaining pack. Derek had declined the invitation because he couldn’t fathom being in the same room as Stiles all night long, while surrounded by other werewolves who were attuned to him in every way and would smell any scent he gave off, and concern themselves with any strong feeling he exposed to them.

The party was scheduled to start in an hour, but that hadn’t deterred Scott from showing up at Derek’s house. He did not wait to be invited inside and stormed past Derek into the living room. “We need to talk, Derek!”

Derek shut the front door and banged his head against it a couple of times before making his way into the entrance of the room. He watched Scott pace back and forth, fully shifted to his beta form and growling under his breath. He smelled like a mixture of candle wax, evergreen and strife. Derek was instantly alarmed because Scott was generally mellow and even when they fought about things, at the very most he’d allow his nails to grow into his palms as a way to use the pain to calm him down. He hadn’t seen him in his beta form outside of a full moon in a long, long time.

Derek walked closer to Scott and asked, “What’s wrong? Are you having control issues?”

Scott stopped moving, glared at Derek and then closed his eyes, his ragged breathing slowing. In the next couple of seconds his features changed to human once again, but when he met Derek’s worried expression, he still continued to glare at him. “I want to punch you and it’s taking everything in me to not do so,” Scott growled.

Derek blinked in shock, but didn’t change his soft posture. “Why?”

Scott’s stilled body exploded into a flurry of movement as he backed away from Derek. “Because of Stiles!”

“What happened?” Derek demanded.

“You!” Scott shouted. “Jesus, Derek! I just spent half an hour on the phone with him listening to him cry. Mom and the Sheriff showed up with the kids at our house without him. They said he was sick, that he’d been feeling nauseated all day. So I called him and I could immediately tell that he was lying about being sick.” Scott pointed his finger at Derek. “You need to fix this. You're coming with me to pick him up and you _are_ going to be civil to him at the party.”

“Me?” Derek asked, scoffing. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You are coming and you’re going to be in the same room with him and you’re not going to be pissed about it. You can forget about everything else for one night and be nice to him! You owe him that!” Scott’s eyes flashed gold.

“How is me going with you going to fix him?” He was not going to touch the comment about what Scott seemed to think he owed Stiles.

Scott huffed. “You’re such an idiot, dude. Lydia told him that you weren’t coming to Christmas dinner and he’s not stupid. He knows you won’t come because of him.”

“It…” Derek stopped himself from saying anything to deny that and dropped back into his recliner.

“He cried, Derek. He was so upset that he couldn’t lie to me about being sick. He just started balling his eyes out and confessing stuff to me about his mom and Sophia and you. He talked about how much Sophia hated holidays and this was the first Christmas since before college that he wasn’t having to listen to her complain about commercialization. He said that he didn’t care about the other holidays so much, and he hates the commercialization too, but Christmas was his mom’s birthday and she loved sharing her birthday with Christmas. Stiles never told Sophia that and he feels like an asshole for not telling her, but he feels like an even bigger asshole because he’s glad he doesn’t have to listen to her bitch about all the Christmas traditions he enjoys.”

“Jesus,” Derek whispered.

“Yeah,” Scott said quietly. “There’s a lot of other stuff he said about her, too and at the end he started hating on himself for feeling the way he does and saying the things he said. But that wasn’t the worst part of our conversation, Derek. That stuff I was able to convince him was all right to feel and say. When I told him that he needed to come to the party tonight and be with his family, he told me that he’d hurt you enough and he knew you deserved to be there and he didn’t want to be the reason you weren’t. Nothing I could say would convince him otherwise.”

“Scott that isn’t… You don’t understand what’s going on.”

Scott sat on the ottoman in front of the recliner and shook his head at Derek while giving him a rueful look. “I do, though. Stiles is my brother, Derek. We’ve known one another since we were babies. I have a pretty good map of Stiles and I know all the people in Stiles’ world and how they revolve around him.”

“If you’re trying to make some sort of astronomy analo…”

“Shut up,” Scott cut off Derek’s sarcastic remark. “What I’m saying is that I’m like an astronomer at the freaking Palomar Observatory, the one with that big huge telescope. I’ve been watching you loyally orbit Stiles’ world for years!”

“You mean the Hale telescope?” Derek deadpanned. “And are you basically telling me, a werewolf, that I’m the moon to Stiles’ Earth?”

“You said it and oh my god!” Scott growled and rose to his feet. “You and Stiles are both ridiculous and annoying. I have no idea why I put up with either one of you.”

Derek almost managed to smile at Scott’s frustration, but the fear that came with Scott knowing how he felt for Stiles… Wait. Just because Scott said he was essentially orbiting Stiles, it didn’t mean that Scott knew he was in love with Stiles. “So, what is it that you’re trying to say then?”

“Oh my god!” Scott’s eyes widened. “I know you’re in love with him and I know that he hurt you. I know you didn’t tell me everything that went down on Thanksgiving and he knows it too. We all understand that you and Stiles aren’t going to slip back into that best friend sort of relationship you had before this, not right away, maybe not ever. I get that you can’t forgive him yet, but Derek you can’t abandon everyone and especially not him, because of it. I know that maybe it's not fair to you to ask you to be around him when you’re hurting, but Stiles is in a lot worse shape than you are right now. He needs to be with his family and friends.”

“Are you going to tell him?” Derek asked.

“It’s been like eight years or something since I noticed and I haven’t told him,” Scott said. “Now would be the absolute worst time in the world to tell him something like that!”

“It would,” Derek agreed. He wanted to explain to Scott that it was the exact reason why he couldn’t be around Stiles, but Scott already knew too much. “I’ll go and I’ll be more than just civil toward him,” he decided. He was a fucking Alpha, he could do it. He could survive a night with Stiles and his pack. “But I’m not going with you to get him.” Being in a home with other scents he could tolerate. He wasn’t going to start the evening off by being in an enclosed car with Stiles and his scent. “Tell him that I just… I just didn’t want to go and make it awkward for him because I’m not ready to talk about Thanksgiving yet. Okay?”

Scott frowned. “You’re really going to show up, right?”

“Yes,” Derek said and rose to his feet. He looked down at the sweats and long-sleeved tee he wore. “I’ll go get changed and I’ll be there by two.”

Scott nodded and walked past Derek, only to turn back and place his hand on his shoulder. “Just because now isn’t the right time, it doesn’t mean there won’t be one. It's not my place to tell him when that time comes.”

Derek swallowed thickly and nodded. “I’ve waited a long time. I can wait longer.”

Scott smiled softly and patted Derek’s shoulder before walking into the foyer. Derek heard the door open and then Scott called out, “Learn from your mistakes, Derek! Don’t wait too long!”

  
  
~*~

Allison and Scott took ownership of Melissa’s house when she moved in with Noah. Derek had been inside it many times over the years, but never for a large party like this. The spacious craftsman style home seemed much smaller with everyone piled in. Even with the smells of food, scented candles, perfumes and other wolves packed into the space, Stiles’ scent grossly stood out to Derek from the moment he’d entered the home an hour before.

What was perhaps the worst part of the party so far, which tested Derek’s self control like nothing else, was the seating arrangements. Everyone was gathered around the dining table, which had something like four leaves inserted into it to make it big enough for all of them, yet it was still a tight fit. If the rest of the pack had been there, tables would’ve been set up in the living area too and Derek probably would’ve been free to sit where he wanted. But no, Allison and Danika had made "adorable" Christmas ornament place markers. On each set of Christmas-themed dinnerware, there was a see-through glass ball ornament with a gift tag inside stating each person’s name amongst the glitter and other trinkets they’d put within them.

Sheriff Stilinski sat at one end of the table, Melissa to his right, Danika to his left. Next to Danika was Danny, because a smittened Danika refused to allow him to sit elsewhere. Beside Danny was his partner Gavin; then Jackson; Lydia; a high chair with their son, Killian; then Isaac; Cora; a high chair for their son, Cade and next to him, Scott was seated at the other head of the table. Allison sat to Scott’s left, then Chris next to her with his wife Shannon on his other side, then Arek in his booster seat right next to Derek. Derek didn’t mind sitting next to Arek, he loved the kid, and watching him eat was always an experience. The problem was that to Derek’s left was Stiles, squeezed tightly beside him because Klaudia’s highchair was a massive thing that could barely fit between Stiles and Peter’s seats. In all honestly, Peter and his wife, Brianna, had a worse seat placement than Derek. They hadn’t seemed to care, but their chairs were backed up against the pass-through of low cupboards separating the dining room from the kitchen.

There were twenty people and with all the food, dinnerware and decorations on the table, it left very little room to move around without rubbing up against the person beside you. Derek tried to lean closer to Arek as he took his first helping off the plate of turkey, but his elbow nearly collided with Arek’s face due to the height the little boy got to in his booster seat. Derek forced himself to keep calm and tried his best to interact with others and keep up the normal amount of conversation he usually did during pack get-togethers as the dishes were passed around the table.

It wasn’t easy though, it really wasn’t, because other than the first greeting between Stiles and him when he first entered the house, Stiles had kept away from him and that seemed to make his wolf long for Stiles even more. Derek had been in agony because of his scent, but he’d managed to control himself. Now, even with the awkwardness growing by the moment, along-side Derek’s need to grab Stiles and fuck him across the table, nothing was keeping them apart. Worse, as the dishes were passed, Stiles kept reaching across Derek, his body pressing tightly up against his left side, warm and inviting, to put portions of food on Arek’s plate. Derek tried to hide his annoyance by stuffing a roll in his mouth so he wouldn’t growl and by thinking of the grossest things he possibly could to quell his rising lust. That wasn’t exactly a good thing to have to do while preparing to eat a massive meal. At least the scents of the dishes were covering any odd scents he gave off.

When the fourth dish was passed to him, Derek looked down at the mashed potatoes and asked Stiles, “Do you want me to give Arek some?” Really, he should’ve just been doing it all along. It was obvious by the placement of the children, that they were near adults who could help them with their food.

Stiles blushed and mumbled, “Thanks.”

Derek didn’t know why Stiles was embarrassed by the request. “I’ll keep making his plate for him, just let me know if there’s anything he doesn’t like.”

“He’ll let you know,” Stiles said, laughing a little bit, his shoulders shaking up and down against Derek.

“Yum,” Arek declared as if to prove Stiles correct.

“Homemade mashed potatoes,” Derek told Arek. “Cora made these, they were our mom’s recipe.”

“Mom?” Arek asked, his eyes going wide and glassy as he looked around the room. “Mommy? Mommy?”

All of the conversation halted, even the youngest babies seemed to sense something was wrong and quieted.

“Mommy died, Arek,” Danika said frankly, her mouth full. She pinned Derek with an angry face. “Tell him she’s not commin’ back!”

“Oh, god,” Stiles whispered and Derek felt the movement of his body now moving rapidly against him. “Danika. I…. Your brother…. He…”

“Stiles, honey,” Melissa spoke quietly. “It’s all right.”

Arek let out a loud wail of one word that broke every heart in the room. “Mommy!”

“She’s not here, Arek!” Danika shouted, banging her fork against the table.

“Come here, Danika,” Noah said and tried to hug his granddaughter, but she wiggled around.

Derek quickly handed the bowl of potatoes off to someone, he didn’t know or care who took it. He stood in the little space he could and unhooked the belt keeping Arek in his booster seat and picked him up. “It’s okay, buddy,” he said, squeezing him tight and snuffling against his neck.

At the same time, Danika was shouting at Noah, but Derek could barely hear it over the sound of Arek wailing next to his ear, his little fists gripping onto Derek’s sweater. “Mommy!”

Danika refused to go to her grandfather, let out a loud cry, threw her fork onto the table, then jumped from her chair and ran off toward the living room instead.

“Danika!” Stiles called after her. He jumped out of his seat and looked around wild eyed and stared at Derek and then his son. “I should…”

“I’ve got him,” Derek said. “You go after her.”

“I…” Stiles looked around, his chest heaving as he tried to breathe and figure out a way to quickly get out from behind the table.

Peter, surprisingly, solved the problem quickly. He pushed Klaudia’s highchair closer to his seat, then grabbed Stiles around the waist and lifted him up onto the counter of the cupboard behind him. Stiles quickly hopped down into the kitchen before running into the living room.

Allison, Shannon and Chris had finally been able to clear a path and Derek took it, holding Arek as his whimpers died down, his little mouth squashed against Derek’s neck. He noticed that Klaudia was completely unaffected by the drama and wondered if this was something she saw happen a lot. Assured that she was all right, he went in search of Stiles and Danika.

  
  
~*~

Derek found Stiles and Danika in the guest bedroom. Anytime Danika stayed with her Uncle Scott and Aunt Allison, this was the room she slept in, so it made sense that she’d retreated here. Stiles sat on the end of the bed holding Danika in his arms in a cradle hold and rocking her back and forth. He looked up at Derek as he walked into the room and his eyes were red from crying. “Bring him here,” he said, carding his fingers through Danika’s dark curls. Danika’s eyes were closed, she looked peaceful, almost like she was sleeping, but Derek could tell she wasn’t. The little girl’s heart rate was still elevated.

Derek sat down beside Stiles and tried to pass Arek off to him, but the child, who had stopped crying on their way upstairs, began to fight it. “No! No! No!”

“Okay, okay, little man,” Stiles said, his voice hoarse. He leaned back a little to see Arek’s face that barely peaked up above Derek’s shoulder. “Your Alpha’s got you, right?”

Arek’s big brown eyes blinked slowly, he nodded and then gripped onto Derek’s sweater harder. “Affa.”

Derek felt so much pain for the kids, but his heart couldn’t help but jolt a little when he heard Arek’s small voice say that word in a protective tone. “You’re a good boy, Arek,” Derek told him, patting his back.

“Danika, can you please open your eyes?” Stiles asked her, brushing one fingertip over her nose.

“Uh-uh,” Danika mumbled and turned her face into Stiles’ stomach.

“We need to talk about what you said,” Stiles told her. “It’s okay to say that your Mommy died, because she did, but Arek is not as big as you are. He doesn’t understand that she's not coming back and sometimes he remembers that she should be here.”

Derek had to close his eyes to fight off tears as he felt the rush of pain and grief flow from Stiles into him. “Danika, open your eyes for us,” Derek tried.

“You mad at me,” Danika huffed out.

“No,” Stiles and Derek said in unison.

“I’m sad for you,” Stiles told her. “That’s all. You can always tell any of us how you feel about anything, especially when it comes to Mommy. It probably hurt to hear your brother ask for her, right?”

Danika’s eyes blinked open and she sat up against Stiles. “Yeah.”

“He’s hurt too,” Stiles said and patted Arek’s back. “But you know what?”

Danika looked at Arek with the saddest puppy dog expression in the world. “Huh?”

“Arek loves you and when he’s hurting, like now, I bet that he’d love a big hug from you.”

“Okay,” Danika agreed and leaned over to wrap her little arms around Arek, mostly hugging Derek in the process.

“You’re a good big sister,” Derek told her.

Arek lifted his head and twisted around so that he faced his father and sister. “Hi, Daddy. Hi, ‘Nika.”

Stiles’ frown turned into a beaming smile and so did Danika’s. “Hi, baby. Are you okay now?”

“My Affa,” Arek said and patted Derek’s hands as if that was the answer. Maybe it was.

“Yeah, you love your Alpha Derek, don’t you?” Stiles said joyfully and kissed Arek’s chubby, beauty-marked cheek.

“Yes,” Arek answered in a sigh and kicked his legs happily.

“Are you guys ready to go back down and eat?” Stiles asked them.

“Yup,” Danika said.

“Tayoes,” Arek said and rubbed his belly.

“Right, there’s mashed potatoes,” Derek told him, standing up from the bed.

Stiles put his hand on his arm and squeezed. “Thank you, Derek.”

Derek resisted the urge to jerk his arm out of Stiles’ grip and forced a smile before turning away, the motion causing Stiles’ hand to drop away. He walked quickly into the hall, sucked in a deep breath and put a neutral expression on his face. Just a couple more hours and he’d be free to leave.

  
  
~*~

The rest of dinner went well as did dessert. All of the kids were happily hanging out in the den, either sitting in their playpens or on the comfy sofa while they watched “Twas the Night before Christmas” cartoon. Derek had been helping clean, store food in takeaway containers and wipe down the counters alongside Scott. As he tossed the towel he’d used over the sink, he noticed the clock above it. It was close to seven and he felt like he’d spent a reasonable amount of time at the party and could make his exit.

“Stiles was telling us that he needs a sitter,” Scott said, just as Derek was about to leave the kitchen.

Derek sighed. “Yeah?”

“Allison and I watch them for a couple of hours while he goes to therapy, but we can’t really manage more than that. He’s got a lot of stuff to catch up on for school and everybody in the pack is really busy right now.”

“Except for me,” Derek said dryly.

“Yeah,” Scott said, grinning a bit. “I mean, I know you work at Isaac and Cora’s shop sometimes, but I also know how much you miss seeing the kids. It wouldn’t be every day, but I bet you could have them for a couple of hours every other day or something until school starts. Stiles needs to come up with a new lesson plan for the coming semester and he only has couple of weeks before he has to hand it in. If you offered, I’m sure he’d appreciate the quiet time to get it done. I see how you are with them too, you’re really good with the kids and they love you. Talk to him.”

Scott was right and Derek knew it. This was a good opportunity for him to be with the children. “You’re a good friend, Scott.”

Scott grinned big and toothy. “He’s my bro, I have to look out for him.”

Derek nodded. “I meant…” He sighed deep and long. “To me.” The smell of Scott’s pleased glee overwhelmed Derek as he walked out of the kitchen to find Stiles. It was an emotion so strong that it helped to calm his aggravated wolf.

  
  
~*~

Knowing that Scott had soundproofed the master bedroom after they moved in, Derek led Stiles in there. He really didn’t need anyone listening in on their conversation.

“What’s up?” Stiles asked looking worried.

Derek was almost certain that Stiles thought he was choosing now to talk about the crap that was between them, but that was definitely not the case. “Scott says you need a babysitter.”

“Uh, what?”

“He told me that you need someone to watch the kids so that you can get ready for school.”

“Oh. I thought you wanted to talk about…”

“We’re not talking about that now,” Derek stated. “Do you need a babysitter or not?”

“Yes?” Stiles answered with a confused expression.

“Fine. Call me to let me know when you need me.”

“Derek, you don’t have to be the one to babysit them.”

“I know I don’t have to,” Derek said.

“You already gave up so much of your free time to be with them,” Stiles said.

“If you don’t want me to watch the kids, just say so.”

“It isn’t that,” Stiles assured. “I just don’t want to burden you. I know that you’ve started working at the store again.”

“I’m helping Isaac and Cora make furniture deliveries, that’s all. They do fine without me and if it’s a big job, they can arrange the delivery for a time I’m not babysitting. You’d only need me to do it a few days a week until school begins, right?”

“Yeah,” Stiles said. “And it wouldn’t even be all day or anything. If I could just get two or three hours to myself where I’m not already exhausted from the day, it would be a big help.”

“We can do Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays?” Derek suggested. “I could come and pick them up after breakfast and take them to visit the pack, or bring them back to my place and let them run around there.”

“That would be amazing,” Stiles said, but still looked worried. 

“What’s wrong?” Derek asked and walked closer to Stiles, his scent pulling him closer. Dangerously close. “You smell frustrated.”

Stiles dropped onto the bed and put his head in his hands. “Honestly, I don’t know if I should go back to teaching.”

“You’ll do fine, Stiles. Your students loved you and you’re great at it.”

Stiles stared up at Derek and gave him a tiny smile. “I appreciate the confidence you have in my teaching abilities, but it isn’t really about that.”

“What is it then? Do you think you’re not ready…” Derek cleared his throat. “Emotionally?”

Stiles huffed a laugh. “Wow, not only are emotions hard for you, but even just saying the word 'emotionally' almost gave you a heart attack.”

“Werewolves don’t get heart attacks,” Derek said defensively.

Stiles shook his head at him in wonder. “To answer your question, I suppose I should be worried if I’m emotionally stable enough for it, but I’m not. Talking to a therapist regularly is helping a lot.”

“That’s good,” Derek said.

“I’m looking forward to getting to know my new students and getting into a routine again. It’s the specifics of the routine that’s going to be a problem. I honestly don’t know how you all managed it before. Picking kids up from three different places at three different times is going to be insanely hard. I’m not going to be available to pick either Arek or Danika up from their schools because I’ll be at mine for at least an hour after theirs ends.”

“I can pick them up.” Derek offered. Truly, he’d offer to keep Klaudia all day so that she didn’t have to go to daycare, but he wasn’t going to bring that topic up yet.

Stiles frowned. “Dude, you’re already going to be babysitting them before I go back to work.”

“Who do you think picked them up before you got back from the retreat?”

“I thought you guys all took turns,” Stiles said. “Jesus, I’m the world’s worst father.”

“We took turns in the mornings,” Derek told him. “I picked them all up from school or daycare and they stayed with me until your Dad or Melissa got home from work. Sometimes they stayed with me all night if they had late shifts. It won’t be a big deal for me to do it again. You can pick them up from my house when you get done at work.”

“You really want to do all that again?”

“It’s no problem,” Derek said. “I love the kids; it’s good for them to be around their Alpha.”

“It’s good for them to be around you,” Stiles said softly.

Derek’s heart lurched in his chest and he turned toward the door. “Call me Monday after they’ve had breakfast and I’ll pick them up.”

“Derek,” Stiles said. “What about…”

Derek looked at Stiles over his shoulder. “What?” he asked in a steely tone, knowing exactly what Stiles wanted to talk about and wanting to make damn sure he knew it wasn’t up for discussion?

“Nothing,” Stiles said, deflating. “I mean, thank you, for doing this.”

Derek wanted to turn around, throw Stiles back down on the bed and curl up behind him and do whatever he could to take away the negative emotions that were wafting off Stiles. He ached to do it, but couldn’t. Even if they’d once been friends who touched and hugged and laid about on one another, there were too many unresolved things between them to be that way now. To be so close, but unable to be anywhere near close enough was a painful tease best avoided.

To Be Continued in Chapter Three  
All Comments appreciated.


	4. Chapter Three: "Reserve"

**Connected  
Chapter Three: “Reserve”**

_“Loneliness is proof that your innate search for connection is intact.”_ ~Martha Beck

Derek knew that he shouldn’t be alone with Stiles, but he had to break his self-imposed rule once again. It was Valentine’s Day and Noah and Melissa planned to be gone for the weekend; they were going to stay at a bed and breakfast an hour away and Noah didn’t want to leave Stiles alone. He’d called Derek, the wolf without plans for the night, and asked him to stop by and check on not only Stiles, but Klaudia as well. Noah had told him that Klaudia was teething and if that were so, it was the first sign that the little girl would soon reach her first beta shift and Derek needed to be there for it. Sophia had been there to take away Danika and Arek’s pain while the fangs grew in and she’d been able to hold them and corral them while the shift lasted. Klaudia’s fangs and claws would be small, but they were sharp enough to do Stiles’ skin serious damage.

He was a little angry with Stiles for not personally calling him. He had been there for every pack cub that had been in Beacon Hills during their first beta shift. As angry as he wanted to be with Stiles for not calling him himself, he knew exactly why he hadn’t. Other than the few short sentences regarding the children when Stiles picked them up from his house after work, they didn’t speak. It was agony for Derek and he could tell that it upset Stiles too, but he had no choice.

Two weeks ago, Stiles had tried to broach the subject with Derek, to apologize for the behavior he still couldn’t recall and asked Derek to, please, be forgiven. Derek had told him that he needed time before he could accept the apology and forgive him. Worse than seeing Stiles’ shameful expression to his response, was that he knew what he’d said had been bullshit. He didn’t need Stiles to apologize to him and he didn’t need to forgive him for anything. Derek had been angry with Stiles’ actions that night, but he’d let the words go in one ear and out the other. He knew with certainty that Stiles wouldn’t have ever spoken them if he had been in his right mind. Derek knew, all too well, that grief caused people to do and say things that weren’t really coming from the heart, but from the fear and pain clouding it. Still, he used the situation to push Stiles away because it was what he believed was best for Stiles. It was what he needed to believe to stay sane without having claimed Stiles as his mate. 

Now here he was, about to embark on a night spent in close proximity to Stiles, in a home that didn’t hold overwhelming traces of Sophia’s scent, which was what usually helped keep him in line. It had been easier before to not breathe in his scent too deeply and give away his interest in the man, because Stiles’ scent was twined so much with Sophia’s, but now it was going to be much harder. Even though they wouldn’t technically be alone, given that the kids were home, it would still be a struggle for Derek not to give in to his needs. He would have to overcome them, because if he didn’t, if he gave into to his desires and tried anything at all with Stiles, Stiles would never forgive him and Derek would never be able to forgive himself.

Derek let out a deep breath, harnessed his resolve and knocked on the door. As he waited for Stiles to answer, he listened in and heard the sound of a children’s program on the television and then the sound of footsteps. Even through the wooden door, he smelled Stiles.

When it opened, Stiles stood before him looking way too good. Instead of the dirty sweats and t-shirts he’d gotten used to seeing him wearing when he wasn’t dressed in work clothes or at a gathering, he was dressed the way he had when Sophia was still alive. Stiles wore tight-fitting designer blue jeans, a dark grey sweater and had his black framed glasses on. The sight was more than enough to make Derek's dick twitch.

Stiles stared at him with a look of shock on his face. “Derek?” It looked like he questioned his reality because he squeezed his eyes shut and open twice before his expression became blank. “What are you doing here?”

Derek held up the plastic bag filled with snacks and the bag containing the _'Back to the Future'_ DVD box set. “I brought movies and munchies,” he said.

Stiles blinked and slid against the door jam. “You want to watch movies… with me?”

“Sure,” Derek replied, keeping his voice level. The wind had picked up outside and wrapped itself around Stiles, making his scent swirl into Derek’s nostrils. He could not stop himself from deeply breathing it in.

Stiles ran his hand through his thick messy hair and pushed the bridge of his glasses further up his nose. “Uh… You realize that it’s bedtime, right? The kids won’t be able to watch anything with us. I have to get them in bed soon.”

“I know and I can help.” Bedtime stuff with Stiles sounded absolutely perfect. Derek stopped that train of thought and reminded himself that Stiles was not talking about sex. He was talking about getting his children ready for bed and those thoughts did enough to calm his libido. “I also heard that you think Klaudia might be teething.”

“I wasn’t completely sure until about an hour ago. Her gums started bleeding…”

“You should have called me, and if not me, another wolf in the pack,” Derek cut in.

“I didn’t want to ruin anyone’s night,” Stiles said. “Sophia may have hated Valentine’s Day and never wanted to celebrate it, but I know that almost everyone else had plans. I’m glad you’re here though.”

“Where is she?” Derek asked. He saw Danika and Arek sitting on the living room sofa completely involved with the cartoon they watched, but there was no sign of Klaudia.

“She’s asleep for now.” Stiles led Derek inside and to the dining room where they both sat down at the table. “She didn’t take any naps today and I thought maybe it was because it’s Saturday and she usually gets restless when she hasn’t been at daycare. I put her in her playpen while I was making lunch and by the time I was done she’d chewed the head off her favorite doll and was working on its arm.”

“She wouldn’t let me check inside her mouth without crying like I was trying to kill her or something, so I didn’t know if the doll thing was an accident and the chewing was just normal baby teething. When she fell asleep about an hour ago I checked her mouth and saw the blood on her gums and they look swollen. I’d say she’s definitely cutting teeth... or I suppose I should say fangs.”

“Shifting and fangs don’t usually happen until a child’s about two,” Derek said.

Stiles’ face paled. “I think that’s because most mothers of werecubs are still nursing their children until then, at least some of the time anyway. Klaudia barely drinks from a bottle and wants more solid food every day. I was thinking…” Stiles bit his lip and shook his head. “Never mind.”

Derek reached out to touch Stiles, but his hand fell short and he put both of his hands back down on the table. “Tell me.”

“I was thinking that maybe her body knows that her mother isn’t around anymore to protect her, so she’s getting her fangs early and learning to shift so that she can protect herself.”

“She’s sixteen months old Stiles and she won’t even be able to shift again until puberty,” Derek said softly. “She’s not that far off from when…”

“It’s nine months sooner than Arek shifted and almost a year earlier than Danika did,” Stiles said.

Derek wanted to take Stiles in his arms, inhale his scent and offer him the same comfort he’d given him so many times, but he couldn’t allow it because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop his wolf from taking over. “It’s okay that she’s different.”

“I guess,” Stiles said, shrugging.

“If you’re really worried about it you can talk to Kristina,” Derek said. “Remember she said that Emmett reached his beta shift at a little over a year old? That was before his father died, so it wasn’t because of some emotional traumatic reaction to protect himself, it was just his wolf deciding it was time.” Derek gave in to the yearning to touch Stiles and allowed his hand to rest on Stiles’ fingers for just a moment. “All kids are different; some speak before others do, some walk before others do, some…”

“Growl before others do and become werewolves?” Stiles asked. He cocked his head to the side, quirked one eyebrow up and his tongue peaked out to wet his lips.

Derek’s mouth watered and he had to clear his throat and take a moment to recall what they were talking about. “I think she’ll be fine, it’s just going to be hard for her as they finish cutting through tonight.”

“Which is why it’s a good thing you’re here,” Stiles said. “I had Sophia to help take away Danika’s pain and Arek didn’t ever really seem bothered. Klaudia though, she was so restless and angry. I’m surprised she didn’t have her first full beta shift already. I think the only reason she’s asleep is because she was so exhausted her body gave in.”

“If you want, I can go up now and take away her pain,” Derek offered.

“Let’s see if she survives me getting her brother and sister upstairs without waking her up. If she wakes, you can do it then. She won’t shift in her sleep will she?”

“I’ve never heard of that happening,” Derek said. “She’ll probably wake up from the shift calling to her. No matter what we do, it’s going to hurt and she’ll probably cry and let us know she needs us.”

Stiles nodded. “I’m so glad that you’re here, Derek. I couldn’t go through her shift alone.”

“Even after she shifts back, she may still feel it and be cranky. Anytime the kids need anything, you call me, okay? That goes for you too. I’ll be here if you need me.” It wasn’t a promise that was easy to make, but he wouldn’t let Stiles or his children suffer because he couldn’t control his libido. He would control it, there were no other viable options.

Stiles gave Derek a tiny smile and rose from his chair. “Thanks. You can help me wrestle the monsters away from the TV and then we can get started with the marathon.”

  
  
~*~

Derek woke to the sound of snuffling cries coming from the baby monitor that was placed on the coffee table. Neither of them had made it through the first 'Back to the Future' movie before they’d fallen asleep. Stiles was lying in the recliner, fast asleep and showing no sign that he heard his daughter’s cries. Stiles was probably as exhausted as Klaudia had been, so Derek would let him sleep.

He turned off the baby monitor and went upstairs. As he entered the room, he was taken aback for a moment when he saw a pair of glowing yellow eyes staring at him. Klaudia’s crying had ceased and now she was growling at him, the sound high-pitched and frankly, adorable. As much as he knew Stiles needed sleep, this was a milestone Stiles wouldn’t want to miss. 

He picked up Klaudia, who continued to make growling noises against his chest as she burrowed close to him. Derek patted her back and whispered quietly to her, “You’re a big girl now, aren’t you?” Klaudia just blinked up at him and snuggled even closer to him. “All right, let’s change your diaper and then we’ll go downstairs and wake up Daddy.”

After placing Klaudia on the changing table, Derek put his hands on her face to ease her pain. As he did, the little wolf relaxed and her growling ceased, she remained in her beta form though. The first time a child completed a full beta shift, they would usually remain in that form for at least an hour and they would be unable to shift again until puberty hit. He changed her diaper quickly, having no idea how long she’d been shifted for and wanted to make sure he got downstairs in time for Stiles to see. Though the thought of Klaudia shifting had been worrisome for Stiles, Derek knew he’d be as excited and amazed by how she looked as he had been with Arek and Danika’s first shift.

Once downstairs, Derek walked over to Stiles and knelt beside the recliner. Klaudia squirmed against him and babbled, “Daddy, Daddy”, while reaching her arms out to Stiles. Derek knew that the little claws would slice through Stiles’ human skin easier than they would his own. He resorted to firmly holding her against his chest, just out of reach of her father. “Stiles,” Derek called out to him. “Wake up.”

Stiles eyes snapped open. “Huh? What?” he asked, bolting upright and looking around the room frantically.

“Stiles,” Derek said, drawing his attention down to where he was kneeling beside the chair.

Stiles looked down and the moment he spotted Klaudia, his eyes became so alert it was unbelievable that he’d been deeply asleep only seconds before. “Holy mother fucking… is that my baby?” he gasped. “Oh my! She is so adorable.” Stiles smiled widely and barely resisted grabbing Klaudia from Derek’s arms. “She is so funny looking, but precious too.”

Derek laughed while Klaudia growled and patted the arm of the chair, her claws sticking into the material. “No, no,” Derek told her gently. “We have to be careful with our claws.” He gently extracted them and winced. “She left a couple marks.”

“My dad will laugh about it,” Stiles said, his words sleepy. “When did this happen?”

“She woke up crying, but by the time I got upstairs, she was growling.”

“My baby has shifted!” He reached to take Klauida, but stopped when Derek backed away.

“She has sharp claws, Stiles.”

Stiles looked dazed for a minute. “Right, right. I just want to hug her so badly.”

Klaudia struggled against Derek’s hold and her growling became mixed with a hissing noise. “We need to take her outside.”

Stiles looked forlorn. “She wants me to hold her, Derek. She needs…”

“She’ll be all right without you holding her until she shifts back,” Derek assured him. “She needs to crawl around in the open air under the full moon.”

“Oh, jeez, I forgot about that. Do you think that’s why she shifted today?”

“It probably has something to do with it.” Derek stood up. “Come on, we’ll take her into the backyard.”

“But it’s freezing outside!” Stiles said, scrambling out of the chair.

“It’s in the fifties, which is much warmer than it usually is at night this time of year. She’ll be fine, Stiles.” Derek rubbed the wolfish hairs covering parts of Klaudia’s cheeks. “This will keep her warm long enough for her to shift back and she’s wearing a warm pajamas.” Klaudia snapped at Derek’s hand so fast she managed to catch the webbing between his thumb and forefinger and drew blood. “Shit,” he gasped, laughing a little. “She’s quick!”

Stiles went to the hall closet and grabbed his jacket and shoes. “Do you think I should put a coat on her?”

“If you really want to,” Derek answered. “But I’m sure she won’t need it. You can feel how warm she is.”

“At least let me put her shoes on so that…”

“Claws,” Derek interrupted him and shook Klaudia’s left foot. “She can’t control those yet.” She was wearing footie pajamas and the claws had broken through the material.

“Right, claws,” Stiles said sighing as he brought her winter jacket over to Derek, but dropped it beside him. “That isn’t going to work. She’s going to tear right through the sleeves.”

“She would,” Derek said. He held Klaudia’s hands in his fist and told Stiles, “Feel her, she’s warm.”

Stiles placed his hand on Klaudia’s cheek and nearly got his finger bit off as she snapped at him and then let out a mighty growl. “All right, all right,” he told her. “You can go out without a jacket and shoes, but this is the only time I’ll ever allow it in the winter. This is a special occasion.”

Klaudia hissed at him in answer and when Derek released her hands, she used her claws to dig into his hands. 

“Stop that,” Stiles told her, putting on his own jacket and shoes. “It’s not nice to draw blood.”

Klaudia hissed back at Stiles. “Daddy!”

“That’s right,” Stiles said. “I’m your daddy and you need to listen to me. I know you’re all wolfy right now, but you can still be nice.”

“She probably can’t,” Derek said amused.

“I don’t remember Arek or Danika acting like this,” Stiles said, walking toward the back door.

Derek followed, struggling to keep Klaudia’s wiggling, growling body in his arms. “There’s a reason for that.”

Stiles held the back door open for Derek and Klaudia to pass through. Once they were outside and Derek had placed Klaudia on the ground he asked, “It’s because her mother is not here, isn’t it?”

Derek shook his head and moved to place himself between Klaudia and Stiles. “No, it’s because I haven’t made her submit to me. Her eyes may be beta gold, but she’s feeling like an Omega right now.”

“Why haven’t you done that?” Stiles asked, sitting on the porch step behind Derek. “Christ, it’s cold out here!”

After the sixth time that Derek maneuvered Klaudia away from the path to Stiles, she finally gave up trying to get to him. Instead, she dropped to all fours and began crawling around the yard, growling and sniffing at everything.

Derek moved to sit down beside Stiles. “You haven’t given me permission to be her Alpha. Also, with Arek, when I made him submit, it caused him to shift back. I didn’t want to do that to her until she’d had some time to explore the earth and feel the moon and before you had a chance to see her.”

Stiles turned and stared at Derek with a cautious expression. “Why would you need my permission? I don’t remember ever giving you verbal permission with Arek or Danika.”

“Things were different then,” Derek said quietly, keeping his eyes focused on Klaudia.

“Am I…” Stiles took a shuddering deep breath. “Do you not want us to be a part of your pack?”

Derek felt nauseated at the suggestion. “Stiles…”

“I get it,” Stiles said, his voice crackling. “I fucked you over when you were trying to help me. I said some horrible shit to you and you have every right not to forgive me for it. I… I remember more about that night now, at least I think I do. I had nightmares about it last week, but when I asked my dad, he said you hadn’t told him or the rest of the pack about what I heard myself saying. I’m not sure if they were nightmares or if it really happened.”

“It was probably real,” Derek said. “But it’s in the past now.”

“No, it’s not. You haven’t forgiven me and I don’t blame you. I didn’t just say shitty things to you about how you run our pack, that if I were a wolf I’d do it better. That’s all you told the others. If the nightmares I’m had were memories, then what I said and did to you was so much worse than what the pack knows. In the memories I punched you, fought you and I… I fucked up so fucking badly, Derek. But please, even if I’m no longer to be a part of your pack, my kids need…”

Derek grabbed Stiles’ hands in his and squeezed them. “You’re still my second, Stiles. You always have been and you always will be. I haven’t wanted to have you focusing on pack stuff lately and called off the full moon get-togethers because you have too much shit going on and everyone else needed to catch up with their own personal stuff, too. There’s nothing you could say or do that would make you not be a part of my pack, unless you chose not to be.”

“But I did,” Stiles said, taking his hand back and tucking them under his arms. “Didn’t I? I said that to you.”

“Yes.”

“What you told the pack about me, about the things I did say; it’s reason enough for you not to want me around you.”

Derek sighed. “I probably shouldn’t have told the pack any of what you said. I should’ve found another way to get them to see how far off from fine you were.”

“You had to tell them,” Stiles said. “I get it. I was so far gone, so fucked up. I was drowning, I’m still barely holding my head above water now, but if it weren’t for you helping me, I may not be here right now.”

“What do you think you remember?” Derek asked.

“You came into my bedroom and found me punching the headboard.”

“Yes, I did.” Derek took Stiles’ hands in his and checked them over. “They healed well?”

“They’re fine,” Stiles told him, pulling his hands back and placing them under his armpits again. “They probably shouldn’t have healed so fast. I remember hitting the wood and feeling the pain. I also punched you, a lot, really fucking hard. Right?”

“Yes.” Derek was glad that Stiles wasn’t a werewolf because his heart’s pace skyrocketed and he knew that Stiles would know there was something up if he heard how fast it was going. Stiles would know that inside, Derek was panicking. He needed to change the subject. “I’ve heard that being inebriated can make humans less susceptible to injury.”

Stiles laughed dryly. “Where did you hear that shit? People just don’t feel the pain as strongly when they’re drunk; it has nothing to do with them not becoming injured.”

“I don’t know where I heard it.” He’d completely made it up. “Look at Klaudia,” he said, drawing both of their attention to the child. “She’s a natural wolf.”

“Oh god, the whole walking on all fours thing will never look normal to me,” Stiles said. “No offense.”

Derek smiled and elbowed Stiles. “Maybe the whole always walking upright on two legs thing looks weird to born werewolves, have you thought about that?”

“I suppose,” Stiles agreed. “I just hope she doesn’t do that once she shifts back. Madison is cool of course, but the other caregivers at the daycare already think she’s weird with all the sniffing she does. Can you imagine if they saw her walking like that?”

“Did Maddy tell you that?” Derek asked, angry. “Did she say that they think Klaudia’s weird?”

“No,” Stiles said. “Calm down. It’s just a feeling I get. I don’t really blame them; Klaudia is weird. She’s physically far more advanced than any other child her age and she’s very picky about who she allows to touch her.”

“That’s part of being a wolf.”

“Part of being in a pack?” Stiles asked.

“Yes.”

“I know you were trying to change the subject before, but there are some things I want to ask you about that night. I need for you to be honest with me and tell me if all those nightmares are actual memories.”

Derek really didn’t want to do this, but he could hear Stiles’ accelerated heartbeat and smelled the acrid sent of guilt permeating off him. Even if he continued to remain distant from Stiles after tonight, the least he could do for now was to give him peace of mind. Still, he doubted confirming the things Stiles might possibly remember of that night, would do him any good. “Okay,” he said reluctantly. “Tell me what you remember.”

“I told you that the Hales were cursed. I said that…” Stiles cleared his throat and Derek was hit with a cloud of emotional pain from Stiles. “I said that it was your fault that Sophia died because she was a part of your pack. I told you that I didn’t want to be a part of your pack. I told you that I didn’t want you around my kids because… because I didn’t want the Hale curse to kill them too.”

Derek nodded and spoke softly, “You did say that.”

Stiles curled in on himself and sighed. “No wonder you wanted my permission to have Klaudia submit.”

“That‘s not why, Stiles. Sophia gave me permission by baring her neck to me the moment she let me in your house, after you called to tell me about Danika and then Arek. That was her permission.”

“So you need me to bare my neck to you?” Stiles asked, turning his body to face Derek more easily.

Derek knew he couldn’t handle Stiles doing that, he would probably wolf out and try to take him on the steps right there, whether or not Klaudia was three feet away. “No,” he said quickly. “Your verbal permission will work in this case.”

“Okay then,” Stiles said. “You have my permission.”

Derek nodded and stood. With most of the pack, he was in full wolf form whenever they first submitted to him. With the full moon tonight, coupled with Stiles’ overwhelming earthy musky scent that was all his own, the scent that superseded all others coming from him, he would not be able to contain his desires in his full wolf form. He shifted quickly to his beta form and dropped onto his hands and feet in front of Klaudia.

“Dek!” Klaudia hissed his name and charged at him.

Derek howled loudly at her, just before she could reach him and she dropped to the ground on her back. He moved over her and smiled, his fangs elongated, red eyes staring into her bright golden-yellow gaze. “I am the Alpha, Klaudia,” he told her. Even if children didn’t completely understand his words, Derek still used the same lines his mother had used when taking in a new pack member. “I will be your Alpha, but you must submit.” He let out a loud growl close to her face.

Klaudia whimpered and instinctively bared her tiny neck to Derek.

Gently, Derek placed one of his clawed hands against Klaudia’s neck, barely touching her skin with it. Her eyes diverted to a spot behind him, no longer meeting his in a challenging gaze and her breathing slowed dramatically. “Klaudia Stilinski, you are now a Beta in the Hale pack.”

Klaudia shifted back into her human form and rolled onto her hands and knees.

“Good girl,” Derek praised her as he shifted back to his human form and picked her up.

“You did so well, Klaudia!” Stiles cheered, vaulting off the steps and running over to them.

Derek nuzzled against Klaudia’s neck and face, scenting her as she cooed human baby noises at him. “She’s very smart, Stiles,” he praised and handed her off to him.

Stiles cuddled Klaudia close to him and started walking back toward the house. “You are such a big girl,” he told her. “You have made Derek and me so proud. Your mother would have been so proud of you too.”

Derek followed Stiles back inside and asked, “Do you want me to heat her up a bottle while you get her changed out of those clothes?”

“That’s a great idea, thanks,” Stiles said. “She drinks the Vitamin D milk in the fridge,” he told him.

“I know,” Derek replied.

“Of course you do,” Stiles said quickly, and Derek caught a wave of embarrassment from him and saw his cheeks get pinker than they’d been from being out in the cold. “Uh… just bring it upstairs when you’re done if you don’t mind?”

“Not a problem,” Derek assured and went to take care of the task as Stiles’ disappeared out of the kitchen. It was true, helping Stiles care for his children had never been a problem, not when Sophia was alive and certainly not after when Stiles had been so gutted, so heartbroken that he’d barely been alive himself.

The problem Derek had was that a decade worth of pining for Stiles had been officially realized by his body, by his wolf, and he was terrified that there would come a point that he’d no longer be able to keep it at bay. He didn’t want to lose Stiles or the kids and if he didn’t contain it, he would.

Sophia had only died six months ago and Stiles was nowhere near ready to move forward into another relationship, let alone a relationship with him. Derek knew that Stiles had harbored a crush on him all throughout high school and maintained it for a while in college, but then he began dating Sophia. She’d been such a wonderful person, and Stiles had been so enamored with her. The first time Stiles introduced her to the pack, Derek had been unable to dislike her. His plan to ignore the lust and other feelings he felt whenever he was with Stiles, at least until Stiles was settled in at college and had taken advantage of being free for a while, had backfired.

The first time he’d heard Stiles speak about Sophia, about the Rosewood pack, one he remembered his mother being allied with when he was younger, Derek knew that he would lose him. The Rosewoods were extremely in tune with their wolves and instincts. They were fiercely protective over their pack, and just as loyal to them. If Sophia found Stiles and knew he was her mate, then Derek had to let him go. When it came to love, his instincts had failed him many times before, and he figured that it had happened yet again.

Derek remembered his mother telling him the story about the Rosewood’s ancestors, the Wiyots. The pack had lived on land that was now the territory for many different werewolf packs, including the Hale territory. As a child, Derek had believed in that story whole-heartedly, but as he bent down to retrieve the milk from the bottom shelf of the fridge, and felt the small wounds on his chest and shoulders pull and ache, he couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps his mother hadn’t told him the entire story. 

Maybe his mother hadn’t known it, because it was after all, a story that was hundreds of years old. Maybe the Chief-Alpha hadn’t been wrong in choosing the mate for his son and the other girl was also Pamuya’s mate, but over time that part got left out of the tale? Was it possible for one human, to be a mate to two different werewolves in one lifetime? Or did the Hales have some Wiyot blood running through their veins that they did not know about? The next thought Derek had, made him feel like a world class asshole for letting it cross his mind, but he couldn’t stop it. Maybe Sophia hadn’t ever felt the moon within her, and Stiles had never truly been her mate, because Stiles had always been his.

To Be Continued in Chapter 4


	5. Chapter Four: Admittance

**  
Chapter Four: “Admittance”**

_“Sometimes our lives have to be completely shaken up, changed and rearranged to relocate us to the place we are meant to be.”_ ~Anonymous

The next time Derek showed up at the Stilinski home, was not at the request of Stiles’ father. This time, two weeks later, it was because Stiles had called him the night before and asked if Derek could come fix the leaky faucet in the upstairs bathtub. Danika had told Stiles that she couldn’t sleep because the sound was too loud. Derek was needed to both help fix the faucet, which no one else in the home knew how to do, and to have another lesson with Danika about how to train her super hearing and tune out noises that bothered her. 

Stiles had said that he wanted to give him something in return, so he offered to cook Derek his favorite breakfast and invited him to accompany them to the park after. Derek agreed to the breakfast, the tutoring session and to trying to fix the faucet, but resisted immediately to agreeing to the park excursion. He told Stiles that he might have to help Isaac with a furniture delivery, but truly he was unsure of how much time he could spend in Stiles’ presence.

Now that he stood in front of the house, Derek was unsure, yet again, of how long he could stand being around him and still maintain his composure. No matter how much resolve he had, he was afraid he might go crazy from the desperation he felt to mark Stiles as his mate. None of all the books he had been reading regarding werewolf traditions and lore, had given him any answers to the questions that plagued his mind. 

Even if he did find answers that confirmed that Stiles had never been Sophia’s mate, that didn’t mean that Stiles would want to be his mate now. No matter what his own feelings were, or how Stiles once felt for him, it was doubtful that those feelings would reemerge from him anytime soon, if ever.

Derek had been able to smell the scent of pancakes and syrup as soon as he exited his car, but as he walked inside, the sweet scent mixed with all of the scents from the Stilinskis. The longer the kids had been in their new home, the easier it was to smell them there and the more potent Stiles’ scent was too. “I’m here,” he called out, announcing his presence as he closed and locked the front door behind him. Stiles insisted that humans would never break into the Sheriff's house and it had long since been protected with wards, but Derek still didn’t like it unlocked.

“I’m in the kitchen with Klaudia,” Stiles’ voice called out.

Derek walked into the kitchen and was nowhere near prepared for the sight before him. Stiles stood at the stove, holding Klaudia on his hip with one arm, while he flipped a pancake with a spatula in his other hand. Derek was an alpha male and Stiles too had an alpha personality, especially when he was around Derek. So, whenever he got a glimpse at Stiles looking even just a tad domestic, it excited him in ways Derek was sure had to do with his wolf. But the scene before him was so much more than Derek having a kink for Stiles providing for his little pack. 

Stiles had on a worn, tight Beacon Hills Lacrosse t-shirt. Klaudia’s position on his hip while he moved around the stove must have made the shirt ride up his torso and it rested up past the top of Stiles’ navel, showcasing the trail of dark hair below. To make the view even more delectable, Klaudia’s feet had obviously done a number on Stiles’ basketball shorts that were a little too big on him. The waistband was pushed down to rest just above the swell of his ass. The urge to shift and claim Stiles reared from within; Derek swallowed thickly as he held the urge back. A big reason e stopped him from tackling Stiles was the overpowering instinct to protect the little wolf plastered to Stiles’ side.

“…figured you like the ones with blueberries, so I made a batch of those too. Did you want chocolate chip, too?”

Derek blinked slowly and formed his hands into fists behind his back, refusing to allow his claws to come out. Stiles had been talking to him for who knows how long, his brain was short-circuiting and he really needed to get himself under control. What was it that Stiles had even asked? “Huh?”

Stiles turned to face him for the first time and smiled widely. “You’re still not a morning person, are you?”

“Dek!” Klaudia shrieked.

“That’s Alpha Derek to you,” Stiles told her and pointed his spatula at Derek. “Call him Alpha, Klaudia.”

Klaudia giggled. “Dek!”

Derek’s heart rate decreased as he became focused on Klaudia’s smiling face and less on Stiles’ face and abs... and hips and… fucking _everything_ else. He could do this. He was a born werewolf who had absolutely harnessed his control earlier than all the other young wolves in his close and extended family. Derek had been so in touch with his wolf, at nine years old that he had been able to shift whenever he pleased and he hadn’t even reached puberty yet. His was the earliest second shift out of all of the wolves in his family and most had been unable to control it until they were around twelve or thirteen. Derek could definitely contain his wolf as a thirty-two year old man!

Stiles turned back to the stove and flipped the pancakes in the iron skillet. “Are you just going to stand there or are you going to do what I need?”

Derek prayed for control at that point, because no matter what Stiles was intending it to mean, Derek heard so many other sexual questions laced within that one. Focus, he chanted to himself.

“…but before you go upstairs, please tell me if you think you’ll want some of the chocolate chip pancakes. If you decide you want one later, it’ll have to be one that looks like Mickey Mouse.”

Derek still hadn’t followed everything Stiles had spoken, his brain foggy, but he managed to reply, “I don’t mind Mickey Mouse pancakes, but whatever kind you make will be fine.” He then turned into the living room and made his way toward the stairs, because that was what Stiles needed, not him fucking him on the kitchen floor.

“Sow Wouf!” Danika yelled from the top of the staircase and then proceeded to jump off it.

“Holy shit!” Derek yelled in surprise as he caught the child and then placed her on the ground. He wasn’t sure what he was more upset about, her jumping or the fact that she hadn’t addressed him as Derek or Alpha, but Sour Wolf. “Never do that again.” He flashed his red eyes at her and she immediately went a little limp. “That is extremely dangerous and you’d give your dad a heart attack if he saw you do that.”

“Saw her do what?” Stiles yelled the question from the kitchen.

“She jumped from the top of the stairs,” Derek called back. “But I caught her.”

“Oh, hell no!” Stiles hollered. “I told her that the next time she did it, she’d be in time out. Put her in her time out chair, it’s the little blue stool next to the stairs!”

“Okay,” Derek said and then looked down at Danika who was now sucking her thumb and staring at him with big honey-brown eyes. “You heard your dad,” he said, his voice gentler now. “You need to go to your time-out chair, okay?”

Danika took her thumb out of her mouth with an audible pop and glared an expression Derek had witnessed cross Stiles’ face a hundred times. “Yous mean. I was just given you a hug!”

“I know,” Derek said, leading her over to the miniature chair. “But rules are rules.”

“I don’t even get hurt for long because I’m a wouf.” Danika pouted as she plopped down onto the chair, her expression now changed to a pitiful pout and her eyes, now puppy-dog like, were pinned to Derek’s.

“But it’s still dangerous and your father told you not to do it, so you should listen to him because he loves you and knows what’s best for you.”

“Mommy did it lots and Daddy laughed,” Danika said and put her face in her hands.

Derek felt his resolve to leave her in time-out weaken dramatically. She _had_ been excited to see him and only wanted to give him a hug, apparently the way Sophia had done with Stiles. Derek actually remembered seeing that scene occur at their old house many times. He knew that Stiles never actually caught Sophia in his arms until after she landed, but he figured that to Danika the concept was the same. “Stiles, how long is she in time out for?”

“Don’t be such a softy!” Stiles called out. “I’m setting the timer now! She’s got three minutes. In the meantime, go see if you can fix the faucet!”

“Why are you yelling everything?” Derek asked, his tone not much louder than usual. “You realize we’re werewolves and can hear everything you say, right? You’ve been around us for at least a decade…”

“You can cover my daughter’s ears right now…” Stiles spoke in a low tone that Derek barely heard.

Derek shivered at the authoritative soft voice, but did as Stiles asked and placed his hands over Danika’s ears. “Sometimes I forget that we’re not all the same, so fuck off.”

Derek laughed and when he took his hands away from Danika’s ears she grabbed them and held on. “You’re gonna teach me even if you’re mad at me?”

Derek smiled at her and kissed the top of her head. “I’m not mad at you, kid. I just want you to listen to your dad. I’m going to go upstairs and see if I can fix the faucet, you sit here for a few minutes and think about why it’s important that you listen to your dad.”

“Okay,” she huffed and crossed her arms.

When Derek reached the top of the stairs, he heard the soft sound of Arek’s deep breathing. He wondered how the child could still be sleeping with all the commotion downstairs, but figured he was probably just used to it. He passed the children’s bedroom on the way to the bathroom and peaked in on him. Arek was burrowed under his blanket and Derek could only see him from the nose up. Arek was Derek’s cuddle buddy, and given the fact that he usually wasn’t awake so early, it was tempting to just crawl into bed with Arek and go back to sleep. When Arek began to shift, possibly sensing his presence, Derek quietly moved out of the doorway and made his way into the guest bathroom.

As soon as he entered the small room, he heard the water dripping, but there was something else he heard too. The leak wasn’t only in the outer valve that ran to the faucet and into the tub. Derek could hear where it began and as he neared the tiled wall, he smelled a bunch of things at once. The smell of mold and rotting wood were so common in older homes, he'd become immune to it, but the other things he smelled were accompanied by noises. This was nothing the little toolbox Stiles had sitting beside the bathtub waiting for him to use would fix.

Derek really didn’t want to ruin the breakfast that Stiles was making. When he told Stiles what he suspected were living in the walls, it was a distinct possibility. This morning had been the first time Stiles had seemed so easy-going and happy in a long time and he really didn’t want to spoil that, but it wasn’t like he could lie to him about the problem. Stiles would ask if the faucet was fixed and Derek would have to tell him why it wasn’t. Heaving a big sigh of resignation, Derek walked out of the bathroom and almost tripped over Arek who was standing just outside the door.

“Affa?” his sweet little voice asked, his tiny fists rubbing his eyes.

“You have been working on your stealth I see,” Derek joked and picked the little guy up. “Good morning.”

“Hmmm,” Arek murmured, burying his face against Derek’s chest. “Potty.”

“Oh, okay.” Derek put him back down on his feet. “Do you need help?”

“Uh-uh,” Arek said. “I’s a big brofer.”

Derek had been the one to potty train Arek and it had helped telling him that he had a responsibility to show his baby sister how it was done. At the time when Derek first explained this to him, he hadn’t been sure the two year old even understood what he was saying. But later that day, Arek had grabbed his arm and led Derek with him to the bathroom and pointed to the small training toilet he’d bought for him. After a successful result, Derek had praised him and Arek had gone around the rest of the day pointing to himself and saying ‘big’. This was an event in Arek’s life that Stiles hadn’t been a part of and Scott had told Derek that Stiles cried for an hour when he found out that he’d missed it. When Derek heard that, he almost wished he could take it back, but that was a ridiculous thought and Scott had told him as much. Even though there would be things that Stiles would regret, Derek couldn’t, he had to be proud of the role he took on to help Stiles and the children.

Derek looked into the bathroom when he heard the sound of the stepstool scraping along the tile and saw Arek pushing it up against the sink. He watched as the boy turned on the water, tested it and then washed his hands, his high-pitched voice humming ‘Mary Had a Little Lamb’. Derek wondered if Stiles taught him that song, or if it was one Sophia had sung to him. There were a lot of things Derek wanted to ask about Sophia, most importantly regarding memories he could help Stiles share with them in the future. Stiles had mentioned to him about having the pack write down memories in a journal for the kids, but as far as he knew, he hadn’t asked anyone to do that yet. Maybe Stiles felt he wasn’t ready for that.

“All done!” Arek announced as he hopped off the stool. He pushed it back under the sink and then walked over to Derek, holding his arms up.

Derek picked him up and hugged him close while he descended the staircase. “Good job, buddy. You’re a big boy.”

“Daddy at?” Arek asked.

“Daddy’s making breakfast,” Derek told him as reached the bottom of the staircase. “Are you hungry?”

“Uh-huh,” Arek replied, snuggling closer. “My Affa.”

Derek’s heart swelled as it did every time he heard Arek call him that. He saw Stiles looking at him with a fond expression, from where he sat at the dining room table. He returned the smile, but didn’t risk holding his eyes too long, in fear of his libido rearing up again.

“Cakes?” Arek asked, sniffing the air.

“Good morning to you, too,” Stiles laughed. “I made Derek's favorite and your favorite, too. Chocolate chip and blueberry pancakes with whipped cream, butter and syrup on top.”

“Yummy!” Arek exclaimed.

“That’s right, they are good,” Stiles said and moaned as he took a bite.

Derek’s mouth watered as he neared the table, but he did not react to the moan Stiles seemed to think was perfectly okay. He did not. He had a child in his arms and that would just be inappropriate. His mouth watered because of the smells from the array of sweet food in front of him, nothing else. He placed Arek in his booster seat beside Danika, who had her mouth filled near to bursting with pancakes.

“I already made you a plate,” Stiles said, pointing to the setting Derek now realized was placed right beside him.

Derek had been about to sit on the other side of Danika. “Okay, thanks,” he forced out. It would be okay. He could sit beside Stiles once again; he’d just have to keep his mind occupied.

“Did you fix the leak?” Stiles asked, pouring orange juice into a sippy cup and handing it to Klaudia, who looked like she’d already bathed in a vat of syrup.

He didn’t want to talk about it right away, but it was something that would keep his mind occupied, help him to not react so strongly to the feel of Stiles’ warm bare thigh against his. “I couldn’t,” he said. “The problem is in the wall.”

“Oh shit, that means it’s going to cost a lot of money,” Stiles said morosely.

If Derek was right about what was in there, and his senses told him he was, Stiles had no idea just how much money it was actually going to cost. “Yeah, it will,” he replied, pouring syrup all over the stack of pancakes.

“I guess I’ll call a plumber later,” Stiles said. “Klaudia can’t sleep because of the dripping.”

“Itshwasmoor,” Danika spoke, mouth still full.

“Kiddo,” Stiles sighed and looked at Derek. “I feel like a terrible hypocrite whenever I correct her for talking with her mouth full because I do it all the time.”

Danika reached for her cup of juice and noisily gulped it down, a small burp exhaling from her mouth when she finished drinking.

“Now that was rude,” Stiles told her. “Burping at dining table is not okay.”

Danika grabbed a forkful of Mickey’s ear and shoveled it into her mouth, ignoring Stiles’ reprimand.

“Moe pwease,” Arek said, like the little angel he was.

Stiles laughed uproariously as he looked at his son’s plate. “You ate both pancakes already?” He had made them much smaller than Danika’s, but Arek usually ate slowly.

“Uh-huh,” Arek replied, a proud grin on his face.

Stiles leaned closer to Derek and stage-whispered, “They were tiny, but he likes to count how many I have and eat the same amount.”

Derek looked at Arek who was staring at them with a strange expression. “Stiles, I’m pretty sure that you can’t stage-whisper with a werewolf child.”

“Grr,” Stiles said and elbowed him. “What is up with you today correcting my werewolf etiquette?”

“I heard lotsa noises,” Danika spoke up, taking a small break between eating and drinking.

“You did?” Derek asked, giving Arek one of the pancakes from his plate, because there was no way he’d be able to eat all of them. Danika probably didn’t know how to describe the noise to her father, so the adults in the home saw the leaky faucet and assumed that’s what she heard.

“We’ll get it fixed,” Stiles said. “In the meantime, I’ll bring in my iPod dock and you can listen to music while you sleep tonight, so you don’t have to hear it.”

Danika liked that idea and smiled widely. “Mama’s favorite music?”

Stiles’ hand stilled his fork halfway to his open mouth and his happy expression faltered as he took the bite and nodded. Derek figured at that point, feeling the stress and sadness coming off Stiles, there wasn’t really a point in waiting to explain the bathroom situation. “It isn’t just a leak,” he said.

Stiles groaned. “No, please tell me you don’t think we’ll have to rip the wall out or something.”

Derek grimaced. “Or something?”

“Shit,” Stiles swore. “What is it?”

“Shit!” Klaudia yelled and patted her sticky hands on the table of her high chair. “Shit!”

Danika laughed at her little sister’s antics, while Arek just kept eating, ignoring all of them. Derek figured the kid must be going through a growth spurt because he was eating as if he hadn’t eaten in days.

“Don’t say that, Klaudia,” Stiles said frowning at his daughter. “That’s a bad word and only adults are allowed to say it. Okay?”

Klaudia attempted to grab onto Stiles’ finger and said, “Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Dadeeeee Shit!”

Stiles turned back to his food and shook his head slowly. “If this food didn’t look so delicious, I’d just faceplant into it right now.”

“All the more reason,” Derek joked, swallowing another bite. “These are delicious by the way.”

“Thank you,” Stiles said and flushed a little, but all Derek smelled was contentment.

“I love just about everything you cook, but these have a lot of good memories associated with them,” he admitted. He wasn’t going to think too deeply about the first time Stiles’ made them so many years before, nope that would be jerk-off material for later.

“So, the leak is pretty bad?” Stiles asked.

“It's not only a leak,” Derek told him. “Danika is right, there is more. There's noises, plural, not just one dripping sound. I don’t think it's the drip that kept her awake. I think the leak just happens to be in the vicinity of what is really keeping her awake.”

“Okay,” Stiles drew out the word. “You’re freaking me out. What is it?”

“Do you want to finish your breakfast first?” Derek asked, motioning to the plate that still had one half of a pancake on it.

“So it’s really bad then,” Stiles guessed. “It’s so bad that you think I’m not going to want to keep eating after you tell me.”

Derek said nothing, in part because it was true, but also because he had his mouth full.

“Oh man, it’s horrific, isn’t it?” Stiles asked. “Please just tell me it isn’t something supernatural that managed to get in between the wards on the walls or something.”

“No, no,” Derek quickly assured him after rushing to swallow. “It’s nothing supernatural. I shouldn’t have brought this up right now. I think we need to discuss it alone,” he suggested, realizing that it might freak the children out.

Stiles looked at his children who were once again engrossed in eating, except for Klaudia, who held her head back while she drank her juice, looking like she was about to fall asleep. “You were just saying they can hear anything,” Stiles said. “Anywhere I go in this house or even in the yard, they can hear it if they want to.”

“Actually they’re probably too young to hone their ears to purposefully listen in if we’re that far away.”

“So then I’ll just wait to hear the bad news until after we finish eating and its cartoon time,” Stiles told him. “Ignorance is bliss, right?”

Derek laughed dryly. “Right.”

  
~*~

A half an hour later, Derek and Stiles slipped out to the back yard. Klaudia and Danika were both napping upstairs while Arek was in Stiles’ room, lying down and watching "The Lion King".

“Okay,” Stiles said, wrapping his arms tight around his torso. “Tell me, because I’m totally freaking out and imagining a million different things that are taking over the house.”

“I am ninety-nine percent sure that there is a colony of rats in the walls.” During breakfast, as he sat and listened to all the noises in the home, he heard them in the wall adjacent to the dining room too and as they walked out back, he heard them in the kitchen walls as well.

“A colony of what?” Stiles yelped.

“Rats.”

“Rats?” Stiles’ tone rose in pitch. “Fucking vermin! We have vermin living in the walls right this very second. That’s what you’re saying. A fucking colony of rats are just shacking up and breeding…” Stiles shuddered, “…in this house?”

“I could be wrong about what animal it is, there’s a slight possibility that I am.”

“We don’t even have mice,” Stiles gasped. “At least I don’t think we do. How do we have rats! How are there a shit ton of rats in the house and yet we’ve never seen them? Are they fucking magical rats or something?”

“No, I think they’re just normal rats,” Derek said and when he focused his mind on listening to the outer wall of the house, he could hear them moving around there too. “I think they’re all over the house and it probably happened rapidly. I didn’t hear or smell them the last time I was here. But if there’s as many as I think, they’ve probably chewed insulation; possibly some wires too, which…” Derek thought of how dangerous his discovery truly was and had to fight a tidal wave of nausea. “That could cause a fire.”

“The… the master bedroom,” Stiles said, his breathing labored. “Last week dad said that the outlets weren’t working on one whole wall. He was going to call an electrician because he thought something was wrong with the breaker box.” He began pacing. “Oh crap, how the fuck do you get rid of a colony of rats and how the fuck did they get in?”

“I’m not sure, but I guess I could try to look around and find out for you.”

“No, no, I don’t think I want to know yet. You know, Scott was here and so was Isaac, don’t you think they would’ve heard or smelled them?”

“It’s possible they wouldn’t have because when you’re at someone else’s house, overwhelmed in their environment, stopping yourself from enhancing all of the different sights, smells and sounds becomes second nature unless there’s a need for them. I didn’t even realize it until I was listening for the leak in the wall. As soon as I became focused on them though, I could smell their feces, hear their chewing and the squeaking.”

“Oh my god! I bet that I know why we have them,” Stiles said, stopping his pacing. “That freaking house two doors down that was abandoned for like ten years, they demolished it a few of weeks ago. They were probably living there and then came here.”

“That makes sense if the people tearing down the house didn’t send in an exterminator first,” Derek said. “They might even be in your neighbor’s homes as well.”

“Man,” Stiles started his pacing again. “This is not good. My dad is going to flip out and so is Melissa. We can’t share our home with those diseased animals! If they can chew through wire, they can chew through walls too, right?”

“It could get that bad, yes,” Derek said. “We’ll need to call an exterminator and call the city too. If these rats did come from that house, they’ll have whatever company tore it down pay to get them out of here.”

“How are they even going to do that?” Stiles asked. “The rats are in the walls!”

“The only way they can. They’ll have to tear out the walls and lay traps.”

“And what are we supposed to do in the meantime?” Stiles asked. “We can’t live here with the house torn apart!”

There were ten homes between the rest of the pack members, half whom had guest bedrooms that went unused most of the time. Any of them could temporarily house Stiles and his kids until Stiles sold his old home and found another; however, those facts didn’t stop Derek from blurting out the one thing that was truly the last thing he wanted to say, “You can move into my house.”

Stiles stared at him with a critical expression. “What?”

Derek couldn’t rescind his offer now, it had been made and he was doomed to repeat it, because though Stiles acted like he didn’t hear him, he knew that he had. “You can all… move into my house.”

To Be Continued in Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your Kudos and comments, I love and am thankful for each one.


	6. Chapter Five: “Collide”

**Chapter Five: “Collide”**

_“You can close your eyes to the things you do not want to see, but you cannot close your heart to the things you do not want to feel.”_ ~Johnny Depp

Stiles felt guilty for not being strong enough to continue to live in Sophia’s and his home after she died. He knew that if he hadn’t been so weak, he wouldn’t be dealing with the problems he was now facing. The kids and he could have lived in their home for the rest of their lives, but at the time, Stiles thought moving out was the perfect solution for all of them. One of the worst triggers for the anguish he felt had been being in the house, even when it got to a point where he didn’t want to leave it. Sophia had designed each and every room to her taste and memories of moments he’d never have with her again had driven him crazy. He hadn’t wanted to use any of the money from Sophia’s life insurance on living expenses, the biggest being the big mortgage. Sophia may have only usually worked part-time, but she’d brought home two-thirds of their income. Stiles wanted to save that money for the children’s first cars, college funds and whatever other big expenses that would come up in their lives that their mother would never be a part of.

“Was moving them out of our home the right thing to do?” Stiles whispered, head bowed and eyes squeezed shut. Derek had given him the guest room that had soundproofed walls, so he didn’t have to worry about Derek hearing him talk to himself. He didn’t have to worry about Arek waking up from where he napped in Derek’s bed, the only place he would take one. “This is now the second move they’ve had to deal with it in a matter of months.”

“I’m sorry, son. If I’d known about the rats, I would’ve helped you get a place right away so that the kids weren’t bustled around so much.” Noah said, appearing in the doorway that was now halfway open. “Even so, I think you did the right thing. You were stuck in your head too much there and it’s obvious you’ve made a lot of progress since you left it.”

Stiles jerked his head up. “Uh… Dad. What are you doing here?”

“Sorry, kid, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Noah said, closing the door behind him. He put a box down beside Stiles. “I found that in the basement and thought I’d bring it over.”

“Thanks.” Even though the question hadn’t been meant for his father, Stiles was glad to have the man answer it. He turned from the plastic container where he’d been placing Danika’s clean clothes and faced his father. “I really appreciate that you let us stay with you, Dad, and it’s not like you could’ve known what would happen. The rats weren’t there when we first moved in. Anyway, I could not have moved somewhere alone with the kids on my own right after leaving my house.”

“How’s it been living here with Derek?” Noah asked as he sat down on the bed.

“Honestly,” Stiles sighed, “it hasn’t been an easy adjustment for me, but the kids love it here.”

“Nothing about what’s happened has been easy,” Noah spoke softly. “But this, you and the kids living with Derek, a man who cares deeply for all of you, I’d think that’d be a lot easier than anything else you’ve had to deal with, right?”

“That’s the problem,” Stiles admitted. He stood, climbed onto the guest bed among the pile of clean laundry and leaned against his dad.

“What do you mean?” Noah asked.

“I’m ruining Derek’s life,” Stiles said. “We’ve invaded his home.”

“Is that how you felt when you moved in with Melissa and me?” Noah asked, hurt. “Because that has been and always will be your home, Stiles. I don’t ever want you to think that we didn’t want you there.”

“I know you did, but it was different with you, you’re my dad.”

“Derek is your Alpha,” Noah said. “The pack, we’re all family, right? Isn’t that what you’ve always said? Isn’t that what you made so much fuss about for years trying to get me to understand?”

“Yeah,” Stiles croaked out and dropped his face into his hands. “But we’re not supposed to take advantage of one another. I’ve done that with all of you, especially when I selfishly abandoned my kids. I selfishly expected you all to pick up my slack, didn’t have mind enough to care if you didn’t, and yet you all did, no matter how thankless I was at the time. Derek is my Alpha, but he's not my father. The problems I created should not be any of yours to solve, especially not Derek’s when it’s obvious they are ruining his life.”

“Ruining his life?” Noah asked with confusion. “What in the world makes you think that?”

Stiles wiped the tears from his face and sat so he could draw his legs up against his chest. “I don’t think, Dad. I know. All you have to do is spend an hour here alone with us and you can see it. Though I suppose you wouldn’t see it because then we wouldn’t be alone, but…”

“I understand what you’re trying to say, but you need to be more specific.” Noah’s posture stiffened. “You’re scaring me, Stiles. From the way you’re talking, you’re making me think that the wonderful way he treats those kids is just an act and when nobody is around he acts different.”

“No,” Stiles said quickly, feeling ashamed that he’d said anything that would make his father think that way about Derek. “Derek has always been great with kids, especially mine. If he treated them poorly when it was just us alone in the house, I wouldn’t stand for that! I definitely wouldn’t let him watch them while I’m at work!”

“All right, kid,” Noah said and rested his hand on Stiles’ knee. “I believe you and I didn’t want to even imagine Derek would do that, but I don’t know what you’re so upset about.”

“It’s us, as in him and me,” Stiles explained. “At first I thought it was because he was trying to give me space, but now I know it’s he who needs it. It’s like it was before we moved in here, when he never came around to see me unless I called and asked for him to. He can’t stand to be alone in the same room as me. If the kids are awake, he’ll hang out with us and ask if I need help with something, but usually he ignores me and focuses on the kids. I’ve tried talking to him, but I feel like he’s forcibly blocking me out, because he always looks at me like he has no idea what I’m talking about when I bring it up and then he leaves the room.”

Noah shrugged. “Maybe he doesn’t understand? You can be a little long-winded and that can throw people’s concentrations off.”

Stiles huffed. “Yeah, I know I do that, but Derek hasn’t ever had a problem with it before. Usually, he’d listen to everything I said, and then choose how to respond to it in increments. Now, he barely responds at all, and if he does…” Stiles threw up his hands and leaned close to Noah. “I’m telling you, it’s like pulling teeth to get him to acknowledge me and he doesn’t just ignore me when I’m trying to talk to him. Anytime the pack has met in an official capacity, he barely spares me a glance. I’m his second in command, Dad. I’m supposed to be the one he defers to if he can’t think of a solution to a problem. Even if he can think of one, he has always either asked me my opinion directly, or taken me aside to discuss things until we are in agreement of how to proceed.”

“I think you’re getting yourself worked up about a problem that doesn’t exist,” Noah said. “If he seems like he’s not listening or responding to you talking, it might just be because he’s tired or because he wants to show you that the kids are safe with him, by giving them his full attention.”

“That doesn’t explain why he treats me like I’m hardly even a member of his pack,” Stiles griped.

“Have there been any problems within the pack that you would’ve liked to have gone differently?”

Stiles thought for a moment but couldn’t think of a single one. “No.”

“If he is purposely doing that, do you really think it’s because he’s mad at you for somehow ruining his life, which I still fail to see evidence of you doing, because that doesn’t sound like him.”

“You don’t understand,” Stiles said, feeling a little desperate now. “There’s more evidence.”

“Which are?”

“He doesn’t spend any time alone with me, none at all. I’ve asked him to watch movies with me after the kids are asleep, but he always says he’s tired or has other plans. We’ve lived here a month and there hasn’t been one moment that he’s spent in the same room with me if the kids weren’t also in it. I’ve moved my kids into his home, I’m using him as a babysitter and we’re ruining his life. He can’t stand to be around me because of it!”

“You’re going in circles, kid. I really think you’re reading too much into things,” Noah said. “But if you really think you’re ruining his life, maybe you should just sit down and talk to him about it.”

“Oh my god!” Stiles gasped, frustrated. “Have you not heard a word I said? He won’t stay in the same room with me to have a conversation unless it pertains to the kids.”

Noah smiled. “If he really won’t, then I can think of one way you could make him stay where you need him to and talk to him.”

Stiles’ eyes widened. “I’m not using mountain ash. He’d kill me and then he’d _really_ never forgive me.”

“Better than you killing yourself over a problem that I personally don’t think exists.”

“Uhhh… Never mind,” Stiles said and went back to folding the clothes.

“How’s teaching going?” Noah asked.

“It’s all right,” Stiles said. “I finally think the kids and I are getting to know one another, but it’s a shame because now there's not much time left before school ends. Still, I’ll be glad when it does. I know that I’ll never be able to make up for the time I missed with them, but I want a chance to try. By the time I get home from school, it’s time for dinner, baths, and bedtime. The weekends are usually spent with them going places with someone from the pack and I just… I feel like I never get to spend enough time with them. Sometimes I think about how nice it would be to not renew my teaching position next year and just stay home with them.”

“Would you really want to do that?” Noah asked.

“Yes,” Stiles adamantly spoke. “But I can’t afford it.”

“What about the insurance?” Noah gently questioned.

“I’m saving that for the kids’ college and car funds, or in case of emergency, nothing else,” Stiles told him.

“You could always tell the pack when they ask for them, that you don’t want them to go,” Noah suggested.

“I know,” Stiles said. “But when I was unable to be there for them, they were and the kids miss them. Klaudia wasn’t actually supposed to go today, but she wouldn’t let Lydia go when they tried to leave. It wasn’t a normal fit that a child throws because their sibling is doing something they can’t do, or because a person they love is leaving, it was deeper than that.”

Noah brushed his hand through Stiles’ hair and held him close. “You’re a good father, don’t be so hard on yourself. If you think it’d be better for all of you to take off a couple of years from work and use some of the insurance money to support yourselves, then you should do it. You’d still be using it for the children, they’d still be benefiting from it. When it comes to getting them their own cars, you’ll think twice about wanting them to have them anyway when they are old enough to drive. As for college, you have a lot of time to save for that and there will be grants they’ll qualify for.” He paused for a moment and then added in a hoarse tone, “For the same reason you qualified for them.”

“I guess I have a couple of months before I have to really worry about it,” Stiles said.

“In the meantime, do whatever you can to keep positive.” Noah stood up. “I’ve got to get going, Melissa and I are meeting Chris and Shannon for dinner.”

“To talk about Allison’s baby shower?” Stiles guessed.

“Oh yes, Melissa is over the moon and can’t wait to plan it and Shannon is so excited that Allison wants her to be a part of it.”

“What will you and Chris be doing while they’re planning it all?” Stiles asked.

Noah rolled his eyes. “Hoping that our wives don’t somehow catch baby fever.”

Stiles laughed as his father walked out of the room and smiled as he imagined Melissa pregnant. If he and Scott shared a sibling, it would quite possibly be the coolest thing in the world.

  
~*~

Stiles woke to the sound of music, or song anyway. Derek, accompanied by Danika, Arek and Klaudia, were standing around the bed singing Happy Birthday. Mostly, it was Danika and Derek singing, because Arek and Klaudia barely knew the words, but they were trying and that’s all that counted. It was the best way he’d ever woke up, made even better by the tray Derek held, filled with breakfast goodies, the pancakes topped with whipped cream and a lit candle. Stiles sat up against the headboard and put a pillow on his lap as Derek handed him the tray. When the song ended, amongst clapping and cheering, Stiles took a deep breath, blew out the candle and made a wish. When he opened his eyes, they were a little glassy from tears, but he blinked them away.

“You’re sad, Daddy?” Danika asked, carefully crawling up into the bed.

“No, baby girl,” Stiles assured. “I’m happy, really happy.” He wanted to hug her but couldn’t due to the tray in his lap. “Can you give me a kiss?”

Danika leaned over and pecked him on the cheek. “Happy Birthday!”

“Happy Birthday to you,” Stiles told her. “I can’t believe you’re four.”

“Not for two days,” Danika said. She looked up at Derek. “Right, Alpha?”

Derek laughed. “Right, but you’re close enough and we’re having your birthday party tonight, so lots of people are going to wish you happy birthday.”

Danika squealed in excitement and got off the bed. “We gotta get ready!”

“Your party isn’t until dinnertime,” Derek told her.

“I want cake,” Arek said matter of fact.

“Me too,” Stiles told him. “What sort of cake are we making for Danika?”

“Clocklit,” Arek said, bouncing on his feet beside the bed. “Pink Clocklit!”

“And purple for Daddy!” Danika said.

“What about you?” Stiles asked Klaudia, who was now in Derek’s arms. “What kind of cake do you like?”

Klaudia just licked her lips in answer and said, “Cake!”

Derek laughed, his smile wide and pleased. “That’s my girl. We don’t care what kind of cake it is, do we? We just like cake.”

“Uh-huh,” Klaudia agreed and wiggled until Derek set her down.

“All right, let’s let Daddy enjoy his breakfast,” Derek told them. “Yours is on the table getting cold.”

“Pancakes!” Danika yelled, grabbed Klaudia’s hand and pulling her out of the room. Arek gave Stiles a kiss on his hand and then slowly followed them.

“Thank you, Derek,” Stiles said and grinned. It was early yet, but his cheeks already hurt from smiling. “This was such a nice thing to do for me.”

“Danika and Arek woke me up this morning and asked to do it for you,” Derek said and turned to go. “Enjoy your breakfast.”

“Wait,” Stiles called. He moved the tray to the nightstand and swung his legs around to the side of the bed. “I want to talk to you about something.”

The smile Derek had on his face quickly turned into a frown. “What is it?”

“After the party and the kids are all in bed, I was hoping you might want to do something with me. Something more adult-like?”

Derek’s eyes winded and he took a step back. “What are you…”

“Oh my god!” Stiles rushed out a breath. “Not what I… I meant, I’d like for us to hang out like we used to. My dad got me the new Nazi Zombie games and…”

“I’ve got plans later,” Derek said shortly.

“Oh.”

“You should ask Scott.”

“I wanted to do something with you,” Stiles told him, his voice shaking. “We live in this house together, but you don’t ever want to see me.”

“I see you all the time,” Derek scoffed.

Stiles’ felt his heart race and squeeze tight all at once. He had to do this now; he’d been sitting on these fears for too long. If he didn’t push on now, he might not have the courage to ask Derek about this again. “But we don’t do anything together like we used to. You only hang out with me when the kids are around. I miss us, Derek. Don’t you miss us too?”

Derek blinked and Stiles watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed and how his face paled. “I have plans tonight,” he stated.

“You say that every single time that I ask you to do anything with me,” Stiles said, voice shaking. “I know that what I said to you was terrible, but I thought, when you asked me to move in, it meant you’d at least want to be my friend.”

“Are you saying you’re going to find somewhere else to stay if I don’t want to be your friend?” Derek growled, eyes flashing red.

“No,” Stiles told him and dropped his head into his hands.

“Do I treat you poorly?” Derek asked, uncertainty evident in his tone. “Do I?”

“No, you don’t treat me poorly,” Stiles admitted.

“Good.” Derek turned, fled the room and practically slammed the door behind him.

Stiles looked at the breakfast on his nightstand, but he didn’t feel like eating it anymore. His stomach ached and his eyes burned with tears. He got back under the covers and pushed his face into the pillow and wept, “You don’t treat me any way at all. The kids are the only reason you even acknowledge that I’m here.” He was speaking to himself, but he couldn’t keep it in any longer.

  
~*~

Summer had come on hot and humid for the last week, so the rain falling from the skies now was very welcome. Stiles could see the plants in front of the house soaking it all in, along with the sun that still shone through some of the clouds. It had been the last day of school and as Stiles pulled out of the middle school’s parking lot, he felt relieved. The sudden rain shower had made the drive home a little longer than usual, but his Jeep took the roads well in almost any weather. Yesterday Stiles had gotten the vehicle new tires as well as a tune-up. As a safety precaution, he’d taken out the garage door opener, and as he pulled in front of the garage, he realized he’d forgotten to put it back on the sun visor this morning.

He looked into the back seat where the boxes with his things from the classroom were and then looked back outside again. The rain was still falling heavily, so he decided to leave everything in the car and make a run for the side entrance, because alongside the garage opener he had also taken out his umbrella. As the rain soaked through his white-button down shirt, he cursed himself for not taking an umbrella with him this morning because the weatherman had predicted rain in that morning’s news report. He’d at least thought to find the correct house key while he was still in the Jeep and had it ready to insert into the door when he heard the sound of a deep growl. For a moment, Stiles thought it was thunder and looked up to the sky. It had only been rain, no thunder or lightening during the whole drive. He heard the noise again and realized it was a growl, one he knew well.

Stiles backed away from the door and walked around the side of the house toward the backyard. Through the tall wrought iron gate he saw Derek down on all fours, wolfed out and chasing his kids around. As he unlocked the gate and slipped through he heard Klaudia’s laughter as she ran away from Derek, slipping in the mud, but still evading Derek, who didn’t have his claws out as he made to grab her. Deciding to go for another target, Derek did a back flip, which caused all the children to cheer, and then he took off after Arek. Stiles watched his son dash up the tiny plastic slide in the yard, and then turn around and mock growl at Derek when he got to the top. Without a doubt, Derek could not be stopped by a tiny werewolf who stood atop a slide that was still shorter than he was, even on his hands and feet, but Derek let him think he won and turned to run after Danika who had been teasing him. Danika squealed and ran toward Klaudia who hid behind a thin tree, and called out, “Safety Zone!”

Derek stood upright and let out a mighty howl that Stiles felt in his bones. The children began mock howling with him and Stiles was suddenly transfixed by the image. Derek had always been playful with his children, had wrestled with them and done other things with them that Stiles knew pertained to being a werewolf, but watching this seemed different. Stiles could imagine that this game was likely something Derek had played with his large family, his mother and father chasing the little wolves around the yard, this very same yard. Derek had once told him that they often trained in the rain or snow because it heightened some senses but also dulled others and taught them to strengthen their senses, balance and strength. This was Derek being an Alpha and teaching his little werewolves in the way Derek’s parents taught him.

Derek dropped back down to his hands and now Stiles was mesmerized in a different way. Derek wore a dark blue t-shirt, that was plastered to him, a pair of jean shorts that also stuck to him, almost in an obscene way, outlining his ass. Stiles’ gaze roamed over Derek’s body as he moved fluidly through the grass and mud. His muscles were so defined and they shone in places from the rain that made glittering trails between each moving muscle. The t-shirt did nothing to hide how absolutely beautiful Derek Hale was. He was still as gorgeous as he’d been the first time Stiles had seen him and perhaps even more so now that he wasn’t some mysterious werewolf, but a gentle man, who taught his children, cared for them and loved them as if they were not only his pack, but as if they were his own.

Stiles moved slowly hoping not to be noticed and took his phone out of his pocket. He turned his flash off and began to snap pictures. The rain was slowing, the drops growing smaller now, and the sun was more than just peeking out from behind the clouds. He snapped picture after picture, stopping only when four pairs of eyes suddenly turned toward him. The rain had hidden his scent and the sound of him before, but it was like all at once the interference ended and they realized he was there. Stiles barely had time to put his phone away before he was knocked back into the muddy grass by his three little werewolves.

Derek stood over them, laughing as he watched them all pile on top of him. Danika talked quickly about her last day of school, and Arek was telling Stiles something about trains or rain, Stiles couldn’t exactly understand and Klaudia was just busy kissing all over his face. He began laughing too, not giving a second thought to the fact that he was wearing an expensive white shirt and khaki pants, both likely ruined forever. When Klaudia elbowed him sharply in the gut, his laugher halted and he wheezed out, “Ouch!”

Derek bent down and began extracting the children. “All right little wolves, it’s time to get inside the house. We’ve all got to get bathed before dinner and the lasagna will be done soon.”

“Made it for you, Daddy,” Arek told Stiles, smiling down at him.

“That sounds delicious,” Stiles said, eyes squinting against the sun and drops of rain still falling, but he was still content to not move from the ground.

“Go on,” Derek told them again. “Take everything off in the mud room and put your clothes in the hamper, all right?”

“Okay,” Danika said. “I’ll help them.” She took Klaudia and Arek’s hands.

“You’re a good big sister,” Stiles said.

Derek bent down and held out his hand for Stiles to take. Stiles reached out, but just as he was about to grasp it, Derek fell on top of him. He heard his children laughing and saw them piling on Derek back and then he felt Derek, felt not just his weight but his muscles and yeah, that was his cock, partially erect or possibly just big enough and squeezed against him so closely that it felt like it was. Derek stared at him with wide horrified eyes before he rolled onto his back, dislodging the kids and racing toward the house. “I’m going to shower,” he muttered.

By the time Stiles stood up, Derek was already inside. “Sure, leave me to clean up the mess,” he huffed, staring down at his children who were soaking wet and covered in mud. Seeing Derek with them like that though, it was worth whatever scrubbing he was about to do.

  
~*~

“Daddy,” Klaudia sputtered as Stiles poured a cup of warm sudsy water over her head with one hand, the other shielding her eyes. “Your hands are cold.”

Stiles looked down at himself. He had grabbed a t-shirt and shorts that had been in the dryer in the mud room when they’d came in, but the he could definitely do with a hot shower to warm up. “Sorry.”

In the time it took Stiles to fill the bathtub a little bit and get the water to the right temperature, Arek and Klaudia had fallen asleep, naked and covered in dirt, on the bathroom rugs. It was an adorable sight, but it also made the clean-up very hard. While Danika soaked in the tub, Stiles managed to wash the worst of the dirt off their bodies with washcloths, put them in their pull-ups, and nestled them in a blanket on the carpeted floor. He didn’t want to place them in their beds quite yet because they would still have to have a proper bath when they woke up and he didn’t want to dirty all their sheets and blankets. Derek had said dinner would be ready soon, and the kids had probably worked up an appetite, but he figured he’d let them sleep while he helped give Danika her bath.

“I’m a big girl,” Danika told him. “I can take a bath all alone.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “I know you can, but I feel better when you’re supervised.”

“I can’t even drown,” Danika huffed. “You need a shower, Daddy.”

Stiles laughed. “Really?”

“Uh-huh. You can take one with Derek.”

Stiles laughed. “I can, huh?”

“He’s takin’ one now,” Danika said, as if that alone was reason.

“I think I’ll wait until after I give your brother and sister a bath, you know they’ll just splash me and get me all wet. Again.”

“Next time,” Danika said.

“Uh, no,” Stiles said. “No, Danika. Adults only shower together when they’re in love.” He felt himself blushing as he thought about Derek naked in the shower and then felt a rush of shame wash over him for even having those thoughts. It had been bad enough before, watching Derek’s muscles move and recognizing the undeniable attraction he still felt toward Derek all these years later, but thinking of actually being naked with Derek was a step too far.

“Like you and Mommy?” Danika asked. “You and Mommy were naked together a lot.”

When Stiles was a teenager and asked about things that embarrassed his father, his father would moan about how Stiles never grew out of ‘the question phase’ that most children did by the time they were six. When Sophia was pregnant, his father would warn him about the embarrassing inquisitive nature Stiles had always possessed and told him stories of his childhood. There had been one in particular that Stiles recalled clearly right now. 

His dad had said that it was his first day that he’d let Stiles talk on the radio. His father had laughed so hard before he would even tell Stiles the rest of the story and kept saying, ‘I should’ve known better, it was you, I should’ve known better’, before finishing the story. Stiles had pressed the talk button on the radio, and unbeknownst to his father, instead of it just going to the radio at Tara’s desk in the station, it had gone out to every officer’s radio. Stiles had said, ‘Tara, now that you and Mr. Mark are married, you can have sex a lot and not go to hell because babies aren’t born in hell.’ Apparently, two days before, the cable had been out and instead of him being able to watch morning cartoons, he’d had to settle with the local channels. There were three and on the one Stiles had turned on, it was a Christian television station, there were a crazy evangelist, preaching about abstinence, virginity and what happened to sinners who had sex before they were married. Stiles didn’t remember it happening, but he’d laughed while he heard the story. His father had told him that if his children turned out anything like him, he wouldn’t be laughing about it for long.

His father had been right. 

He really had no idea what to say to Danika except, “Uh…”

Danika stopped washing her mermaid Barbie’s hair and looked at Stiles. “Daddy your heart is too fast. I can hear it. And you smell worried.”

Stiles knew that worry was not the emotion Danika smelled; it was a mixture of embarrassment, shock and horrify. She wasn’t old enough to have names for all the emotions she could smell and probably just went with one that was similar to something she knew. “I’m worried about the lasagna. We should probably hurry up with your bath so that we can eat it before it gets cold.”

“Yes,” Danika said and dropped her Barbie into the water.

Stiles breathed out a sigh of relief, glad that he could divert her away from any more topics that involved him showering with anyone else. He knew though that there would likely come a time in the not so distant future when she wouldn’t be so easily distracted.

To Be Continued in Chapter Six


	7. Chapter Six: "Secure"

**Chapter Six: “Secure”**

_“Invisible threads are the strongest ties.”_ ~Frederick Nietzsche

Stiles and Lydia stood side-by-side in her bedroom, staring out the large double glass doors that opened up to a balcony overlooking the Whittemore’s expansive and perfectly landscaped backyard. It was Killian’s second birthday and when Stiles had first seen the décor of the backyard it took him a moment to get over the shock he felt. Balloons were tied in alternating primary colors onto the entire length of the privacy fence that surrounded the lawn, he was certain there were enough helium balloons to truly fly all the children attending the party off into space. 

Adding to the abundant party atmosphere were two inflatable bouncy houses, one a castle and the other a slide with an obstacle course at the end. Stiles really wanted to try the slide, but he’d wait until most everyone went home in case he made a complete ass of himself flailing around at the end. Getting himself into situations where flailing was a likely outcome was something he tried hard to do only in the presence of the pack. He was an adult now. Still, he had been gleeful as he’d helped Arek, Danika and Klaudia play with the other party activities set up. There was a dunk tank, two carnival game booths, four different slip n’ slides that were positioned up close to the house to take advantage of the hilly landscape, and about a half a dozen more common birthday party games going on amongst the throngs of people.

True to the circus theme of the party, Lydia had hired a fire breather, a clown, and had a colorful air conditioned tent set up that housed the insane amount of catered food, drinks, and a candy bar. Stiles had spent a fair amount of time at the candy bar after his children ate their lunch. Lydia had confessed to Stiles that she had suggested asking her friend Tori from New York, a full-shift weretiger, to make an appearance, but had thought better of it when Jackson pointed out that it was tasteless and would likely result in the end of their friendship. Jackson giving good advice was actually not all that surprising anymore; he’d done a lot of growing as a person during college. Instead, Lydia called the closest wildlife sanctuary and donated an obscene amount of money. In return they brought a dozen animals to the party and gave small lectures to the children while letting the guests pet and take photos with the gentle creatures.

The whole pack was in attendance at the party, along with many outsiders. Lydia had invited Jackson and her close and extended families, work colleagues' families and the people from Killian’s playgroups. Pack celebrations were usually huge events because of the size of the pack. Lydia and Jackson both had a flare for dramatic events and drastic décor whenever they invited people to their home, but this was a new level of insanity, even for them. 

In his head, Stiles referred to the Whittemore home as a mansion and that wasn’t stretching the truth. They’d probably be alternating hosting the pack parties with Derek because of the size of their dining room alone. It had twelve foot ceilings and a long table carved from a single length of dark wood, with spaciously fitting eight chairs on each side, with room for more if needed, while Derek’s dining room had a table that could only seat twelve in total. Lydia and Jackson did everything over the top. The massive party had already been going on for hours and didn’t seem to be winding down any time soon. It was pure chaotic fun and something much easier to appreciate from inside the house after the immediate awe of it all had worn off. 

After swimming in the kiddie pool and redressing, Klaudia and Killian fell asleep in Stiles and Lydia's arms. This was something Stiles was grateful for because he really needed the break from the single women introducing themselves and shamelessly hitting on him all day.

“Can we just stay in here until they wake up?” Stiles asked. His eyes were now fixed on the basketball game happening on the half court outside. Derek stood at the three point line to make a shot, his arms raised, and even from this distance Stiles could see sweat stains at his armpits. His hairy legs were bent slightly, calves straining just a bit as he jumped, muscles in his arms flexing as he released the ball, his long fingers caressing and spinning the ball moments before it left his hands. The shot was all net, of course, and the team of werewolves who were playing against a team of humans, surrounded Derek and clapped him on the back and ass, congratulating him.

“What are you looking at?” Lydia asked.

“The circus taking place in your backyard,” Stiles answered. He really needed to stop watching Derek whenever he was sweaty and well… moving. Or just at all, really. He convinced himself that because Derek would not hang out with him like they were friends, this was the reason that he was feeling the same sort of attraction he once had for Derek. Stiles told himself that if they could just hang out like they used to, the unfriend-like thoughts would stop.

Lydia laughed. “I guess I went a little overboard, but after Bethany had that damn petting zoo at Cory’s first birthday and asked why I’d kept Killian’s birthday so small last year… Uh!”

“Why do you let your cousin get to you?” Stiles asked, amused by Lydia, though most of his brain was being used for something else. His eyes attentively followed Derek as he ran around the court, dribbling past the players of the other team now that they’d easily managed to get the ball back in their possession once more. He knew that none of the werewolves were actually using their superior abilities on purpose, some of them were just innate and couldn’t be turned off. Derek had been a great basketball player in high school and there were times that he would go out on the small court at home and shoot hoops for hours.

“I know I shouldn’t have let the bitch get to me, but she found some way to talk about how grand Cory’s birthday was every time I’ve seen her since. She’s not the only one though. When I took my Grandma out for lunch a couple of months ago, she brought up how the last time she saw me had been at Cory’s birthday! She went on and on telling me about all the amazing things Bethany thought of for her child and what a wonderful mom she is. Then she asked me when Killian’s first birthday was!” 

Stiles was confused. “This is Grandma Anne, right? Not Grandma Dottie, the crazy one who still thinks your mom and dad are going to get back together?”

“No, you have it right, it’s Grandma Anne.” Lydia pointed out to where the pristinely dressed older woman was sipping a cocktail while watching the men play basketball.

Stiles refrained from mentioning that he was pretty sure the woman was a cougar. “Oh, so she forgot how old Killian is?”

“She forgot that she was at his first birthday party!” Lydia said, exasperated. “Then she tried to play it off like she has so many great-grandchildren and because Jackson and I have so many parties, she couldn’t keep them straight. We only had one other party that she attended; the house warming party and that was after Killian’s first birthday.”

“At least you know that Bethany could never afford anything close to this extravaganza,” Stiles said. “She won’t be able to outdo you, no matter what she does and if your grandma doesn’t remember this party, then she’s crazy too.”

“I feel like a fool now,” Lydia said, her voice a whisper. “This day is supposed to be for Killian, not for me or Jackson, or anyone else. He doesn’t even care about all that is out there.”

“He fell asleep because of all the fun he’s had,” Stiles told her. Stiles inhaled a deep breath of Lydia’s scent as he wrapped his arm around her so he could play with her long curls. The summer heat always made Lydia’s hair naturally curl at the ends and he couldn’t help but wrap them around his fingers, feeling comforted as he did so. “You’re a great Mom, Lydia.”

She dropped her head onto his shoulder and said, “You too.”

Stiles laughed. “I think you mean dad.”

“No, I don’t. You cover both of those roles impeccably well.” She moved so that she stood in front of Stiles and looked up at him. “You’re doing a really amazing job with the kids and with moving forward. I’m proud of you.”

He let out a short, uncomfortable laugh. “I think more people have told me they’re proud of me in the last couple of months than anyone ever has before combined.”

Lydia rested her hands on his shoulders and held his eyes. “I’m serious. There are times that Jackson and I question our sanity because of Killian being obnoxious, angry, sleep deprived yet refusing to sleep, or pissed off for reasons we can’t figure out. He wears us out to the point that we honestly just have to call my mother to take over for a while because we can’t handle parenthood for another second without a break. Then I think about you and how harsh I was toward you when we wanted you to get help. I think about how even now, with Derek’s help, you still have three small children to look after in the midst of dealing with so much pain.”

“I still have three children to love and who love me,” Stiles said in a heavy tone of voice. “Don’t go regretting anything now, Lydia. I needed you to be harsh, needed it to make me see and understand my own reality. What was happening was more than just me needing a break from my children because of a particular terrible couple of days without relief, though.”

“Yeah,” Lydia said, looking down at her feet. “I know. That’s my point.”

“No, my point is, what was happening to me was also more than just grief. I was on my way to becoming an addict and alcoholic. Even if it was fairly easy for me to detox from the sleep meds and alcohol, if you guys hadn’t said what you did just then, I may not have listened until it was too late. It wasn’t just my life that I was going to fuck up and maybe lose, it was my kids too. I could’ve done irrevocable damage to them if I didn’t get help. You’re such a great friend, you’re always whatever I need, Lydia.”

“Except when you wanted to marry me,” Lydia said, glancing up now with a smirk.

Stiles laughed and turned them so they could look back outside and draped his arm around her shoulder while leaning against her. “It turned out that wasn’t what I needed from you after all.”

“What about now?” Lydia asked.

He knocked the side of his head against hers before he replied, “Permission to stay in here until my other two children remember that I exist, amongst the circus distracting them, and demand my presence.”

“No dumbass,” Lydia huffed while grinning. “I meant, what do you need now?”

“I know what you meant,” Stiles said. “I don’t have an answer for you.”

Lydia grabbed Stiles and squeezed his arm. “You don’t have to keep it a secret from me, Stiles. You know that I know. You know that I’ve always known.”

Stiles shook the grip of Lydia’s hand off of him and backed away from her until he hit the other end of the bedroom’s wall. It was bad enough that he thought about Derek. To have someone else, a person who knew how gone on Derek he’d once been, want to bring his attraction out in the open… “No,” he said lowly. “We are not going to talk about that. Ever. That’s in the past and it…” Stiles waved his arms around. “It doesn’t belong here.”

Lydia nodded and bit her lip, but after a moment of silence what she wanted to say must not have been possible to be kept inside. “Maybe it does.”

“I just lost my wife, Lydia!” Stiles yelled, as his hands balled into fists at his sides. “I am irrevocably fucked up. No matter how many sessions I have with a therapist or how far I move past it, how happy I may be, I’m still fucked up.”

Lydia took a cautious step toward him. “So is he.”

Stiles' anger lessened and his anguish rose with every second that passed and every step she took toward him. His eyes filled with tears as she reached out to him and pulled him into her arms. He put his face against her shoulder and let his emotions and tears flow. “I’m barely breathing here, Lydia. I’m too fucked up for anyone and I can’t think about being with another person.”

“You will be one day,” she told him. “I don’t mean right now and I’m sorry for pushing you. I just think that at the very least, you shouldn’t feel ashamed if you do feel something for him.”

Stiles lifted his face up and wiped away his tears. “How can I not? It’s been ten months, not even a year, not even a year and I… What does that say about me as a husband? What does it say about me that I’d allow my body to be attracted to another person while my wife…”

“Sweetie,” Lydia cut him off. “It says that you’re human and you’re not…” She took a deep breath and now tears formed in her eyes too. “You’re not her husband anymore, Stiles. You will always love her and probably feel all of the things you vowed to feel the day you married her when you think back to your time with her, but she took vows as well. At the end of them all were the words ‘until death us do part’ and you’ve never broke them, not when she was alive, and you can’t break them now. I don’t mean to hurt you when I say this, but you need to hear it so you can start to understand that it’s okay to be free to love someone else. There are no vows to break; they ceased to exist when she did.”

Lydia’s words knocked what little breath Stiles had in his lungs out of him and he slid down the wall as he sobbed, “She’s dead. She’s really dead.”

Lydia dropped down to her knees in front of him and pulled him back into her embrace. She ran her hands through Stiles hair and whispered words that Stiles’ sobbing was too loud for him to hear, but he was grateful for her all the same. He hadn’t wanted to ever let go like this, hadn’t wanted to believe that there truly had been an end to the marriage and forever he imagined with Sophia, but he was glad that Lydia made him see that it had ended. Even if it made him feel a nearly unbearable amount of pain, he had to accept that it was over. Lydia was there, as she often was, to stop him from falling, careening into a world of shame and guilt that he didn't deserve to live in.

  
~*~

After he’d cried himself out, Lydia led him into the master bathroom and they both washed the tears from their faces. She met his eyes in the mirror and told him, “I’m sorry for being such a bitch.”

Stiles huffed. “When?”

Lydia smirked. “After I apologized for being harsh, I said all that other stuff to you about the vows. There may have been a better way to say that to you.”

Stiles dabbed around his eyes with the cool cloth and told her, “One of the things I’ve always cherished the most in our friendship is your inability to stop yourself from telling people what they need to hear, even if it hurts them a little.” He tossed the rag into the hamper and faced her directly. “It’s better than saying nothing at all or waiting until it’s too late and a person is too far gone to hear anything you have to say.” He gave her a quick hug and kissed her cheek. “It’s a two way street with us, Lydia. Remember the whole thing with your dad the morning of your wedding? You were going to leave Jackson at the altar because you so badly wanted your dad to finally acknowledge you and gain his approval. I said some shitty things to you that day, but you needed to hear them or you wouldn’t be where you are right now. Eventually your dad came around too, so it worked out. He’s here today and I saw him civilly speaking with Jackson.”

“When you’re right, you’re right.” Lydia linked her arm through Stiles’ and led him down the hall toward the nursery. “Let’s go wake the little ones so you can use Klaudia as a shield against the single mothers that have been dying to get you alone.”

Stiles laughed. “I think that Klaudia makes me more endearing to them.”

“Oh honey, you don’t need your kids to attract them. You do however have a child who is potty training and whisking her away for potty breaks is a great distraction to get away from the crazy people you don’t want to talk to.”

Stiles laughed as he opened the nursery door and saw that Klaudia and Killian were already awake in the crib, playing with the singing fish tank hanging on the side. “You realize we’re talking about your friends and family, right?”

“Exactly,” Lydia said. “If it were my pack, I might take offense, but most of them don’t want to date you or know you well enough to even try it right now.”

“Most of them?” Stiles squeaked. “They’re all in relationships.”

“Not everyone.”

"Everyone over the age of 18," Stiles said. "Except Kristina, who I think may actually be secretly dating Emmett's teacher. I saw them flirting with one another at the school's bake sale."

"Oh, that guy is really hot. Go Kristina!" Lydia chuckled as she picked up Killian. “Did you have a good nap, birthday boy?”

“Uh-huh,” Killian answered and snuggled in close to Lydia.

“Let’s change your diaper then. Hopefully you’ll be ready for pull-ups soon like Klaudia. She’s a big girl now.”

“She also has two siblings who have been encouraging her as much as Derek and I have been.” Stiles picked up Klaudia who looked torn as Killian was no longer in her immediate vicinity. “You look well-rested, munchkin. Now you’re going to save me by being a good girl and using the potty for the rest of the party, right?”

“Lian,” Klaudia whined and pouted. “Lian.”

“You’ll get to play with him in just a few minutes,” Stiles told her and began walking out of the room as Lydia placed Killian on the changing table. “Let’s go use the potty.”

“Lian!” Klaudia cried out and open and closed her hands in a gesture that usually meant she wanted something.

“Another Stilinski in love with a Martin.” Stiles brought his wiggling daughter into the bathroom that was adjoined to the nursery.

“At least wait until they’re eight before you teach her your ten year plan of wooing!”

“If I start now, she can use the fifteen year plan,” he called back, laughing. “Do you love Killian, Klaudia?”

“Yeah,” Klaudia said and nodded enthusiastically.

“I’ll do all I can to help you,” Stiles told her as he placed her on the tiny toilet Lydia had bought for her son, but Killian refused to get near. “But if he turns out to be gay you’ll have to set your sights on another boy. It can’t be Emmett, either. I have it on good authority that your big sister is going to marry him if Danny refuses her proposal.”

“You Stilinskis,” Lydia said from the other room. “Hopeless romantics!”

  
~*~

The kids were in bed for the night and Stiles had just finished a very long and informative phone conversation with Henry. He went in search of Derek because there were a lot of things they needed to talk about. He knew the routine would soon begin. Shortly after he located him, Derek would find a way to get away from him, but what he had to discuss had nothing to do with their relationship. He finally found Derek after going outside and hearing splashing water. Derek was in the pool doing laps. “Don’t you know that you’re not supposed to swim alone,” he commented when Derek stopped mid-stroke to look up at him.

“I’m a werewolf, we can’t drown,” Derek told him and went back to swimming.

“I’m sure werewolves actually can drown given the right circumstances. You know I helped the Bartons with their genealogy and we’re fairly certain that their ancestors who drowned on a submarine were werewolves.” 

“If they were werewolves they would’ve been strong enough to punch a hole in the side of the ship, escape and find a way to survive.” 

“Oh my god! No way,” Stiles joked. “This… this is crazy! You’re telling me werewolves have super strength. I hate to tell you this, but werewolves are myths, they don’t exist!”

Derek scoffed and grinned. “They don’t exist, huh?”

“Nope, you’ll have to prove it to me,” Stiles taunted.

Derek leapt out of the pool, his features shifting into his beta form as he neared Stiles, smiling.

Stiles laughed as Derek shook his wet body all over him. “Stop it, dude. Come on, I came out here for a serious talk about Arek.”

Derek immediately stopped the playfulness, which was a bit of a shame, but Stiles did need to talk to him. “What about?”

“I just got off the phone with Henry; we had a long conversation.” Stiles said and when Derek didn’t say anything he added, “Henry as in, Sophia’s brother, my roommate for the last two years of college.”

“I know who Henry is,” Derek growled. “What does this have to do with Arek?”

“Technically it’s about all of the kids, really.” Stiles sat down at the edge of the pool with his legs in the water. “First of all, he asked me when we’re planning on celebrating Arek’s birthday.”

“He doesn’t know his nephew’s birthday?” Derek snorted and slid back into the pool.

“He knows when Arek’s birthday is. He was wondering when we’re having the party because his dad, Wyatt and his Uncle Brogan want to come to Beacon Hills to celebrate it. Last year…” Stiles shivered and took his feet out of the water, though he knew that wasn’t the cause for his goosebumps. “Last year Sophia and I hosted it on the 4th of July, remember?”

“Of course I do,” Derek spoke quietly.

“I’m not sure I want to do that this year. I’d like him to have a special day all to himself. He’s already asked to have a pirate theme and I think those type of decorations are the total opposite of an Independence Day theme. But Arek’s birthday isn’t until the ninth, which is practically a week after the fourth." Stiles felt like he had to talk very quickly, afraid that Derek would run off before he could tell him everything. "Also, Scott and Allison told me they’re going to visit his dad in San Francisco for the fourth and I want them here for his birthday. So, the ninth is on a Friday, but I was thinking we could hold it on the Saturday after. I know Cora’s been talking about having the big barbecue here on the fourth and of course the lake has the perfect spot for the fireworks too. I’m just not sure if you want to have another party here so soon after the 4th of July and if that's the case we can always have it at my dad’s because they’re set to move back into their house next week.”

“Are you done?” Derek asked, looking amused.

Now that Stiles’ mind was not focused on his rambling thoughts, he noticed that Derek was looking up at him with the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen him give. “Uh… What?”

Derek’s lips quirked and what was certainly due to something supernatural, because no human could manage such a feat, his smile brightened further. “You sound like yourself.”

“What does that even mean?” Stiles scoffed and made to wave his hands around, but lost his balance and flopped back onto the wooden deck. “Damn it.”

Derek laughed uproariously.

Stiles pushed himself back up, no more of the leaning back on his elbows crap, and if Derek’s laughter didn’t sound so good to his ears, he might have felt embarrassed. Though he generally had more control in his movements, thanks to a lot of practice in reeling himself in so that he wouldn’t look like a complete spaz in front of his students or the general public, the comfort being around the pack provided him made it easier for him to relax and let loose. That meant that he was a bit of a danger to himself fifty percent of the time. “I’ll have you know, Derek, that if you didn’t have werewolf strength I’d totally belly flop on top of your ass and dunk you.”

Derek shook his head while rolling his eyes. “I’m already wet, why would I care if you dunked me?”

Stiles huffed. “That never matters to people.”

“Werewolf,” Derek spoke in a singsong voice.

Stiles flinched. “Are you saying werewolves aren’t people?”

“Werewolves are werewolves, humans are people,” Derek told him in a serious tone and matching expression.

Stiles stared at Derek until he saw the corner of his lips twitch. “You ass,” he said and pushed his foot against Derek’s t-shirt covered torso, which yeah… that t-shirt wasn’t doing him any favors.

“If you want to have Arek’s party the Saturday after his birthday, that’s fine with me. Cora and Isaac promised to be the ones doing the majority of the cooking and grilling on the fourth, and the rest of the pack usually pitches in setting up and with clean up.”

“Cool. What about the Rosewoods? I’m in charge of officially receiving your permission for them to enter our territory. I know you’re not Brogan’s biggest fan…”

“Because he’s full of himself,” Derek said. 

“True,” Stiles said.

“But I don’t mind them coming,” Derek told him. “I’m surprised none of the Rosewoods have expressed an interest to visit the last couple of months.”

“I’m glad they didn’t,” Stiles admitted. “I want the kids to know them and I’d never try to keep them out of their lives, but you know how damn nervous they always make me and I really needed to get my life together without them breathing down my neck.”

“Do you believe that’s what they’ll be doing when they come?” Derek asked.

“No. Henry said that their reasons for staying away were out of respect for the kids and me... and you.”

“Me?” Derek questioned.

“Henry explained that after Sophia died, they knew that the kids would be extremely susceptible to bonding with the Rosewood pack. Even though, at the time, Klaudia hadn’t shifted and you weren’t officially her wolf’s Alpha, you were still the Alpha of her pack. He said that their instincts would’ve made it hard for the kids to not… well, unknowingly switch packs. It’s natural for young werewolves to be drawn to those who still have blood ties to a parent they’ve lost. It’s like that at any age really, but even more so for the young because they don’t understand the concept of death and their wolf instincts want to lead them to the Alpha of a pack who shares blood with their parent.”

“Like with Cora,” Derek said, hauling himself out of the pool. “Though I didn’t ever feel like they were gravitating toward the Rosewoods at any point after Sophia died.” He grabbed a large towel from a lounge chair, wrapped it around himself and then sat beside Stiles on the deck.

“That has to be because you’ve always been so close to them, especially after,” Stiles said. “What were you saying about Cora?”

“She was playing in the woods when a hunter caught her, he told her he was going to take her to a scientist so they could experiment on her as she grew. She managed to escape from his truck at a gas station just outside of L.A. and when she did, she was drawn to find our cousin Paloma. Paloma is a distant relative and is human, but her father was my mother’s first cousin and the Alpha of the pack in Brazil. She must have felt the blood tie pulling her to Paloma.”

“I always wondered why she didn’t try to find you guys sooner,” Stiles said.

“She didn’t realize we were alive for the same reason we didn’t feel her, because of the trauma we suffered losing so many of our loved ones overwhelming us. We were already so far away from her in New York, too. Through Paloma she learned about Peter, but Laura and I disappeared as soon as we satisfied the questions the police had for us. We lived under other names for a couple of months until we found the Bennett Pack in Brooklyn. Even after they took us in and we went back to using our real names, we changed our birth dates and years with fake IDs so that we wouldn’t come up in the system if hunters searched for us by our real ones. There was already something like fifty Derek and Laura Hales living in New York at the time, so we felt like that kept us a little bit safer. I wish we’d known about Cora, but the truth is, she was safer in Brazil than she would’ve been with us. The pack Alpha and her mate raised her like she was their own daughter. I was honestly surprised that she chose to stay here after finding me. Sometimes I think that if it weren’t for Isaac she wouldn’t have.”

“I doubt that,” Stiles said. “After all, she was drawn here, remember? Even if she’d first been drawn to your cousin’s pack, the first thing she did when she heard a whisper about an Alpha being back in Beacon Hills was get on a plane and come back here.”

“What did Henry say about them coming now? I mean, is there a risk that the kids will still want to bond with them?”

“Not anymore, no,” Stiles said positively.

“How do you know for sure?” Derek asked. “I don’t want them here if they’re going to confuse them.”

“They won’t,” Stiles assured him. “It isn’t in their power now.”

“How do you know?”

“Henry asked about you,” Stiles said. “He asked how you were with them.”

“Oh.”

“I told him how great you are with them, that you spend time with them and are teaching them both as an Alpha and the way…”

“The way what?” Derek questioned.

“The way a parent would,” Stiles said in a breath. “I hope that doesn’t freak you out. I mean, I explained the living situation and why we’re staying here and that it’s only temporary. But I also told him that right after we came from Sacramento, you were the one who spent the most time with them. Then he asked how they felt about you and I told him how much they love and respect you. He said that not only has it been long enough for their bonds with you to solidify after having them broken with their mother, but with the exception of my bond with them, there isn’t any other that could come before yours, at least not until they’re adults and they find their own mates or decide to choose another pack Alpha.”

“Oh.” Derek gave Stiles a look that he couldn’t interpret.

“Is that freaking you out? I mean, I was hoping it would be a good thing.”

“No, it’s not, I mean, yes it’s a good thing, but it’s not freaking me out.”

“Good.” Stiles reached out and put his hand on top of Derek’s bare leg and felt the man shiver. “It’s a warm night; you’d be a lot warmer if you just took off your shirt and dried off. You’re still dripping wet. I don’t understand why you’re always wearing a shirt to swim. You’re going to get a farmers tan if you don’t take it off soon.”

Derek stared at Stiles for a moment, his mouth agape and the next second he was on his feet and walking toward the house. “I’m going out for the night.”

Stiles slowly stood up and stretched, Derek had already disappeared into the house. “Right. Of course. Too much alone time with me makes you remember how much I hurt you and how much you loathe my existence.”

To Be Continued in Chapter Seven


	8. Chapter Seven: "Lost and Bound"

**Chapter Seven: “Lost and Bound”**

_“When one tugs at a single thing in nature, he finds it attached to the rest of the world.”_ ~John Muir

“Has Stiles come back down?” Allison asked Derek as she walked into the kitchen carrying a stack of red paper plates that were decorated with black and white skulls and cross bones. She was due in early October, but with her slight frame, the baby bump looked so large on her it appeared as if she would give birth any day now.

Derek listened for a moment to see if he could hear the upstairs shower still running. “He was taking a shower, but I don’t hear the water, so he’ll probably be done soon. What do you need?”

“Lydia wanted me to ask him if he wants us to set these out as dinner plates, or if they are just for the cake,” she replied.

“They’re just for the cake. I’ll get the ones that are for dinner.” Derek took the plates from her and put them on the kitchen counter. He opened the pantry door and found the economy size bag of stacked, white paper plates and grabbed them.

“Thanks,” Allison said, taking the bag from him. “Do you need any help in here?”

“Everything’s pretty much done,” Derek said, opening the tiny bag of baby carrots and dumping them in the open spot on the vegetable tray. “You could take this out for me if you don’t mind. Let me find a spoon for the dip first, though.”

“Sure. Is Stiles all right?” she asked him. “He seemed really… I don’t know, I guess just irritated or something.”

She was the seventh person to ask Derek about Stiles’ attitude in the small amount of time it’d taken for him to put together the vegetable tray. “He’s as good as he can be considering he’s celebrating Arek’s third birthday without Sophia here to celebrate it with him,” he responded the same as he had before. Derek felt terrible for Stiles, because as gentle and caring as the pack usually were, it was as if the excitement of the party made some of them forget all about it.

Allison nodded while frowning. “Sorry, that was really insensitive of me.”

“Most of you showed up two hours early,” Derek said pointedly. “He didn’t have time to get his game face on.”

Allison’s pale face blushed. “Oh, I know, it’s just that Scott said you guy probably needed help and insisted we come over. I would’ve called Stiles, but I thought Scott had texted him and asked.”

“He didn’t, but there’s no point in being upset about it now, we did need a little help. Stiles just wasn’t prepared for the whole pack to show up early and I think he’s afraid you’re all going to get impatient waiting. We still have an hour before the Rosewoods get to town. Stiles would’ve hated it if they showed up early too, while he was still decorating, not showered and in his pajamas. He’s nervous and wants to make a good impression on them.”

“He will,” Allison said confidently and picked up the tray.

“I’m going to go upstairs and check on him. I appreciate the help, Allison. After you take this out, you should go relax in the pool or at least sit in the shade.”

“Derek, I’m pregnant, not an invalid,” Allison said and took the tray from the counter. “It’s not even that hot outside.”

Derek smiled to himself and made a mental tally mark. That morning he and Stiles had made guesses about how many times Allison would utter that remark today. At the pack baseball game they had last week, she’d said it no less than fourteen times, and that was only the times they could hear her. He watched her through the window as she stepped down off the back porch and laughed to himself as he saw Scott walk over and try to take the tray from her.

“I can walk down stairs just fine,” Allison groaned with annoyance.

Scott supported her elbow anyway and said, “I know you can and I know you’re pregnant and not an invalid. Still, you’re wearing five inch heels and going down stairs without holding onto the rail. Just let me help you to save my sanity, babe.”

Derek wondered if they could count it when Scott or somebody else spoke the lines. He decided to go upstairs and try to hurry Stiles along, by way of asking him his opinion on the matter. Likely, Stiles was sitting in his room thinking about Sophia or trying to psych himself up enough so that Arek wouldn’t sense his emotional state. Derek knew that on Danika’s birthday there were times that Stiles had felt miserable. He’d smelled sadness on Stiles no matter how hard Stiles had tried to cover it up with happiness, real or not. This morning, Derek had tried to keep their conversation light and say things that would make him laugh to help keep his spirits up. 

As difficult as it was for Derek to be in the same room as Stiles, encountering a scent so intoxicating it made his dick stiffen in a matter of moments, when Stiles’ pain overwhelmed his natural scent, or when the children were present, Derek’s primal urges momentarily subsided. The reprieve usually lasted long enough for him to comfort Stiles, even if it was not in the ways Derek longed for. As he reached the stairs and heard Stiles moving about in his room, Stiles’ scent was not imbued with pain, but with confusion and panic. The door to his room was slightly open, so Derek knocked on it as he stepped inside.

“Jesus!” Stiles gasped, turning to face him.

“No, I’m Derek,” he deadpanned.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Are the Rosewoods here early, too? They shouldn’t be, when I talked to Henry twenty minutes ago, he said they were still an hour away. Don’t tell me that they sped here and…”

“No,” Derek interrupted, stepping further inside the room.

“Oh, okay, good!”

“I had a question,” Derek said, looking around the room that he’d never seen so messy. Stiles’ clothing was strewn everywhere.

“Which is?” Stiles asked and began moving about again.

Derek looked away when the robe Stiles wore gaped open at the bottom as he bent down, showing off his lean, muscular upper thigh. He cleared his throat loudly before asking, “If someone else mentions that Allison is not an invalid, do we tally it?”

Stiles threw a shirt over his shoulder and nodded emphatically, “Yeah. Honestly, that should be two points, not just one.”

“Agreed,” Derek said. “Then, we’re already up to three points. We’re probably missing a lot of opportunities right now.”

“It’s okay,” Stiles said, now going over to a plastic bin that looked to hold dozens of pants, though most were unfolded and draped across the top. “When Lydia arrived, I told her about it and she told Jackson. We’ll merge our findings together when she leaves.”

“You know, you’d probably know where things were if you actually hung your clothes up in the closet and used the dressers,” Derek commented. He picked up a shirt draped over a storage container next to him and saw that the bin was filled with girls clothing. “You still haven’t unpacked the kids’ clothing or any of yours?”

“I don’t want them to get too comfortable. It’s the same reason I don’t want them to have their own rooms here, even if you do have way too many guest rooms.” Stiles grabbed what looked like a scrapbook from the nightstand, plopped onto the bed and began flipping through it.

“You know that I don’t mind, though,” Derek said, edging closer to the bed while trying to avoid stepping on any clothes. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you want to, Stiles. The point in me asking you guys to stay here was so that you’d have room to be comfortable. Almost everyone else in the pack had a room they could’ve given you all to share. I offered my house to you, not just a single room.”

“I know,” Stiles said and looked up at him. “Can we not have this conversation now? I need to get dressed.”

“What are you even looking for?” Derek asked. “Maybe it’s still in the dryer? I saw some of your clothes in there this morning.”

“I’m trying to figure out what to wear,” Stiles said and flipped a page in the book he was looking in. “But nothing I have is right.”

Derek looked down at the book and saw that there were pictures of Stiles in it and then writing next to each photo. “What the heck is that?”

Stiles shut the book and pulled it close, though now the front was facing toward Derek.

“Stiles’ Fashion Closet,” he read the name written in gold sharpie on the cover. Derek couldn’t stop the smirk forming on his face. “Seriously? Is that what I think it is?”

Stiles clutched the book even tighter and glared. “Shut up.”

“Let me see,” Derek said.

“Fuck you,” Stiles retorted. “I’m not showing this to you, you’re obviously going to make fun of me.”

“Probably so, but come on, I already have an idea of what it is, just let me see it.”

“All right,” Stiles growled a little and forcefully handed it over, which meant that he’d slapped it against Derek’s chest.

Derek looked at the cover first. “At first I thought maybe this was one of those memory books you told me you wanted to make about Sophia.”

“No,” Stiles said softly. “I asked some of the pack and they’ve given me some pictures and wrote out some stories about her, but I haven’t put them in a book yet. I’m not ready to.”

Derek noticed Stiles said the last part defensively. “That’s okay then,” he said. “You’re not supposed to do it until you’re ready to dive into all of it.”

“Yeah,” Stiles said. “Though I did ask Wyatt…”

“He’s Brogan’s kid, right?” Derek interrupted.

“You act like you can’t ever remember who is who in the Rosewood clan, but I know you know,” Stiles laughed. “Wyatt’s my friend you called Westley like five different times at Sophia’s and my wedding.”

Derek laughed too. “I suppose now that his father has told him that he has chosen him to be the next Alpha I should probably remember his name.”

“Yeah,” Stiles agreed. “That’d probably be a good idea. You’ll like Wyatt if you spend time with him. His personality is much different than Brogan’s, which is why it surprises me that his father choose him. He’s the fourth son, you know?”

“Laura was always going to be the next Hale Alpha,” Derek told him. “It’s not really a choice or birth order. I suppose it could be if an Alpha truly didn’t believe their beta would make a good Alpha, they could entrust it to someone else. It may not have made a difference if Mathew was born a werewolf. My mom swears she knew Laura would be the Alpha the moment she felt pregnant, and then she groomed her for the position from the moment she was born.”

“How exactly is it that an Alpha knows who they’ll release their spark to if it’s not a choice? Everything I’ve read and been told is different.”

“That’s because it’s a sacred act and different packs and Alphas may have varying views and traditions regarding the passing of the spark. One thing I know for sure is that it is instinct,” Derek said. He had yet to tell Stiles that he’d known that Arek would be the one whom he’d give his Alpha spark to when the time came. If Stiles knew, he would ask a lot of questions that Derek wasn’t ready to answer. 

Even after all the reading and research Stiles had done and working as Derek’s second in command, there was still a vast amount of information Stiles didn’t know about werewolves. Stiles may not know everything about werewolves, but he did know that an Alpha’s spark would not pass to a beta that was not family, unless they were killed by the beta. “That’s always the answer that is given to explain a much more complicated answer,” Stiles said. “Luckily for you I don’t have time to hear the complicated one.”

Yes, Derek did count himself lucky that Stiles was surprisingly not going to press the issue at the moment. The day Arek was born and placed in his arms; Derek had known Arek would be the next Alpha. This knowledge should have made Derek question what exactly Stiles would one day be to him, but he didn’t put things together then and even if he had, he probably would not have trusted his instincts. Just because he was taught to rely on them, it didn’t mean they hadn’t ever been wrong. Now he knew that by accepting Stiles as his mate, in turn it would make the children his own, blood relation or not, the magic would accept the children as part of his family too. It had already, even before Derek saw the proof that Stiles was his mate.

Remembering why he’d come up to see Stiles in the first place, he opened the book in his hands. On the first page it showed a younger Stiles standing in a pair of pajama pants in front of a closet that Derek recognized as the one in his old dorm room. He began flipping through the pages and saw photo after photo of Stiles, descriptions of the clothing he wore and the occasions appropriate to wear them written next to each picture. “There are rules?” Derek asked in disbelief.

“Yes,” Stiles said. “Sophia liked it when I dressed nicely and to make it easier for me, she made me this book. We didn’t always update it with everything we bought, but it served as a guideline so I’d always know what was appropriate to wear where.”

Derek really didn’t like this. He gave Stiles a pointed look. “She dressed you.”

“No. She’d take me shopping and help me choose stuff that looked good on me or that was right for job interviews, holiday parties or day-to-day stuff. I always had the power to say no to something I didn’t want to wear and she wouldn’t complain when I did. That’s not dressing me.”

He had known that Sophia had been a bit controlling with her decorating tastes in their home, but this was above and beyond weird. Knowing that Stiles didn’t see how wrong this was made him feel sick. All this time, he’d known that Sophia had influenced Stiles and since Stiles always looked beautiful in whatever he wore, Derek hadn’t thought of it as anything weird. He figured that Stiles finally realized he had a nice body and he had someone beside him that was always dressed impeccably well and chose to do the same.

“I liked the way she looked at me,” Stiles whispered. “She loved me, Derek.”

Derek looked up sharply at Stiles and fought himself to put on a neutral mask. “I know.” Even if Sophia had been controlling, he knew that she had loved Stiles.

“I’ve been doing so well up until now,” Stiles said, his voice shaking. “She always knew what I’d look best in. I don’t want to look stupid in front of Alpha Brogan or Marcus.”

“You won’t,” Derek assured.

“But I don’t know what to wear. If she were here, she’d know. Last year, I wore that short sleeved plaid shirt that was red white and blue and I wore it with khakis. But I can’t wear that for this party, it’s not the fourth of July and I ruined those pants that day in the rain.” Stiles leaned forward and flipped through the book until it showed a picture of him wearing a pair of white cotton shorts that fell just above his knee and a light blue button-up shirt, the collar open and exposing his long beautiful neck, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. “That’s what I wore to Danika’s first birthday, but I also wore it to dinner with Scott last week. I can’t wear it again.”

“Why not?” Derek asked.

Stiles’ heart rate skyrocketed and he looked panicked. “Because I already wore it this month!”

Derek felt cold. “What?”

“It’s not in the rules,” Stiles said, voice cracking. “Sophia said that if you wore the same outfit twice in one month people would remember and think you were lazy and didn’t do your laundry.”

Derek jerked the book away from Stiles who instantly reached to get it back. “Rules are meant to be broken.” He could hardly believe that that after being so close to Stiles for so long and spending a great deal of time in the Stilinski house, he’d never known about the rules or the guidebook. He flipped through the book some more while Stiles had a one-sided debate about the merits of having rules for fashion, his words sounding like they belonged in someone else’s mouth. Derek stopped on the page marked ‘Christmas’. The first picture was taken the day that Derek had been introduced to Sophia. Stiles wore a sleek pair of black dress pants and a crimson sweater that Derek remembered being made of the softest material he’d ever touched.

“That’s the first time you met her,” Stiles said, now standing close and looking over Derek’s shoulder.

“Yeah, I know. When you walked in together I thought she looked like a werewolf Barbie with a surly Ken doll on her arm.”

“She was beautiful, but she was far too bad ass to be like Barbie. She was more like Elsa.”

“Elsa?” Derek asked.

“From Frozen, you know, the Disney movie that Danika is obsessed with,” Stiles said. His finger reached out and traced Sophia’s features in the picture. “She had the white-blond hair like her, the same pale skin and intense blue eyes.”

“Do you think that’s why Danika likes it so much? Has she said that she thinks Elsa looks like her mother?”

“No,” Stiles said.

Derek felt like he’d wanted to add on a ‘not yet’. Derek closed the book. “You don’t need to follow her rules anymore, Stiles.”

“They weren’t _her_ rules,” Stiles insisted. “They were mine.”

“Really?” Derek asked. “I think they were for you, but they weren’t yours. There was a rule in there that said not to wear graphic tees for anything but pajamas or yard work. You never would’ve made that rule, Stiles!”

“But after she explained her reasons, I understood,” Stiles said, his tone steely. “They made me look like a little kid.”

“She told you that,” Derek said, it wasn’t a question. “She told you that because she had a hang up about being almost three years older than you.”

“She di…”

“Don’t deny it,” Derek said, growing angrier as memories that he hadn’t thought too hard about at the time came tumbling back in his mind, painting a new picture. “She used to make jokes about it all the time, but it probably did upset her. She referred to you as her boy toy while you were still in college and anyone asked where you were. She freaking dressed up as a cougar for Halloween when you and Danika dressed up as Harry Potter and Hedwig. Whenever people would ask why you were having children so early, her responses were always the same.”

“Stop it!” Stiles yelled and pushed Derek’s shoulders, almost causing him to fall off the bed. “You don’t know anything!”

“I do know!” Derek yelled back. “I know that she told people that she let you keep knocking her up because she wanted to make sure you’d have a reason to stay with her when she got too old for you. Or she’d say that the more children you had, the more you’d mature.” Derek laughed lowly and shook his head. It was hard to believe that he’d never understood the truth in Sophia’s words until now. He’d always laughed when she’d say things like that because she was often as sarcastic as Stiles and it was one of the reasons they fit together so well. He’d willed himself to accept and love her and in turn he’d purposely blinded himself to her faults, thinking if he spent any time focusing on them it was only going to unleash his jealousy. “She wasn’t ever joking when she said that shit, not really,” he stated, his words holding a tone of sad realization. He hated that he was getting pissed at a dead woman, one he’d grown to love as a dear friend, and a cherished Beta, but he couldn’t help it.

“It’s not like I cared,” Stiles told him. “I didn’t. I loved her, Derek, and I was lucky to be with someone like her. And you’re wrong about why we had the kids so soon. You’re wrong. I wanted a big family and so did she, just like the one she came from.”

“The one she rarely saw after you two were married?” Derek asked. “Half of the time the Rosewoods visited it was for pack business, not because she wanted to see them. Your two closest college friends, who were the two relatives she was closest to rarely spent time together after she moved here.”

“You’re twisting everything,” Stiles hissed. “You don’t understand what it was like for her with them. She wanted a big family so that we could do it right, together. We were supposed to do it right.” Stiles wiped his hands over his glassy eyes and whispered, “It was just clothing, Derek. Clothes don’t mean anything to me, so if it meant something to her, then I didn’t think there was anything wrong in indulging her preferences. I don’t understand why you even care about it.”

“I care because you’re my friend, Stiles,” Derek said, his tone softer. He took one of Stiles’ hands in his own and squeezed it. “You’re my second and sometimes I think you’re more of a wolf than any of the Betas in our pack. I care because you have a position of authority, because you are strong, smart and giving. I care because I knew that I wanted you to have that position long before Sophia decided that you needed to act more mature. You were confident back then, confident enough to know that it didn’t matter what you wore. You don’t need anyone’s approval, Stiles, and definitely not hers anymore because she will never be able to give it to you again.”

“I know,” Stiles said with finality, hugging his knees to his chest. He hadn’t cried, but Derek could see that his eyes were rimmed with red and they still looked glassy. “I don’t want you to be mad at her.”

Derek swallowed thickly. “I’m not,” he said. “There’s no point being mad at her about it now. It’s in the past and you’re going to continue moving forward, right?”

“Yeah,” Stiles answered. “Yes,” he spoke a second later, now louder and clearer. “I want to move forward.”

Derek slid off the bed and grabbed the box he’d seen Noah carry into the house months ago. He used a claw to split the tape and opened the flaps of the box. “I’m sure there’s something for you to wear in here. I know you already took a few things out of it when you were living at your dad’s house.”

“Some of it might not fit. I had that at my dad’s since…”

“Since winter break your freshmen year of college?” Derek asked, knowing it was the truth. The clothes smelled a little stale, but as soon as Stiles wore them for a little while, that would barely be noticeable. They had been protected from the elements by a zippered plastic bag inside the box. “Tell me the truth. Did you really like dressing like that? Not because you wanted to please her, but for you. Did you like it for you?”

“I... I don’t know,” Stiles said.

“Yes, you do know.”

Stiles sighed. “At first it was because I wanted her to like me,” he confessed. “The way she dressed and carried herself reminded me of Lydia. When she asked if she could go shopping with me, I remembered Lydia saying that she and Jackson did that together.”

“Jackson actually likes wearing the stuff she picks out and he doesn’t do it for Lydia, not every single day. You’ve seen him look like crap as often as well-dressed.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Stiles said. “You… you’ve made it sound like she tried to change me.”

“She did,” Derek told him, his voice a little rougher. “That book, that doesn’t matter.” He handed Stiles a blue tank top with a Superman logo on it. “You loved this shirt. Wear it if you still do. I’m thinking you do and I’m thinking you love everything in that box, or you would’ve thrown it away by now.”

Stiles looked at the tank top and gasped, “I can’t wear this. There are holes in it.”

Derek let out a short laugh as he pulled a pair of red and brown plaid shorts from the pants box. “It’s hot outside and I think we both know you’ll be more comfortable in these than in any of those pants.”

“No matter how terrible I may be at putting together an outfit, even I know these will clash,” Stiles told him, shaking the shirt and shorts.

“Then find something else to wear, Stiles. Find something that you want to wear, anything at all, short of only wearing your boxers. You can wear whatever you want and nobody will care.”

“Lydia…”

“Lydia always cares,” Derek agrees. “But she’ll get over herself. You shouldn’t care what anyone thinks. You’re an adult, Stiles. You can dress yourself and you can decide what is and isn’t appropriate for you to wear.”

“But… but…”

Derek let out an aggravated breath. “You don’t have to look good for her anymore, Stiles. You don’t have to look like her Ken doll either, just because you want to make a good impression on her family. I guarantee you that they’re not going to give a shit how you dress. This is your kid’s birthday party, it’s supposed to be fun and I know most of those atrocious shirts in that box are fun.”

“Atrocious?” Stiles baulked. “You’re trying to get me to wear shirts that you think are atrocious?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think about them,” Derek said. “I’m going to go downstairs. Hurry up and get dressed. I’d rather not have to greet the Rosewoods without you beside me.”

  
~*~

Derek was standing at the grill putting the shish kabobs on when Stiles finally appeared. Scott stood beside Derek and tugged at his arm while he whispered, “Look at Stiles.”

Derek mentally settled his wolf, which had immediately reacted when Stiles had stepped outside, even though he hadn’t been facing him. He looked over and saw Stiles had a huge smile on his face and his skin glowed. He had chosen the pair of white linen shorts he’d previously said he couldn’t wear. They were fitted to his thighs and outlined the musculature of his legs as he descended the porch steps. His shirt was not the Superman tank top Derek picked out for him, but it was still something Derek knew Stiles loved and there were even more holes in it. The tank top he wore now was black, with a picture of a white bottle that had a skull and cross bones stamped in red on it. As Stiles turned, Derek saw the back of the shirt. The white letters were faded, but he could still make out what was written, ‘Poison is in everything, and nothing is without poison. The dosage makes it either a poison or a remedy’. 

The holes in the shirt had actually been made by an accidental spill of a potion Deaton had wanted him to use against a harpy. Stiles had little burn marks on his skin for a couple of weeks after that mishap, but the potion had killed the harpy and after that, Stiles wore the top like a badge of ironic honor.

“He looks good,” Scott said, his hopeful feelings saturating Derek’s senses. “He looks like Stiles again.”

“He does,” Derek said and turned back to the grill.

“You did that, didn’t you?” Scott guessed.

“I didn’t dress him, no,” Derek said.

“Of course not,” Scott laughed as if it was an absurd notion. “I’m talking about how he wasn’t happy when he went upstairs to get ready. You went up there with him for a while and now he looks really happy.”

Derek’s body stiffened as he heard the sound of a car pulling onto the gravel road leading to the house and at the smell of wolves that weren’t pack. He looked around the backyard and saw that the rest of the wolves had picked up on it too. Scott’s instincts had him standing by Allison’s side a couple of feet away before Derek had even noticed he was no longer beside him. He looked over at Stiles, who rolled his eyes at him and waved his arms around. “It’s the Rosewoods, guys,” he said exasperated. “Calm down.”

Derek relaxed his posture and all the Betas followed suit. He handed the tongs he’d been using over to Isaac. “Make sure nothing burns,” he told him, barely paying attention. Though Stiles had told everyone to calm down, he himself was not. Derek could feel the nervous energy coming off him in waves. He met up with him near the side gate and caught his wrist. “You’re fine.”

Stiles nodded over enthusiastically. “I know.”

Derek smiled, unlocked the gate and practically pushed Stiles through it. “Come on, let’s get the Alpha posturing over with so that we can eat.”

Stiles laughed a little and walked alongside Derek until they stood in front of the house. When the dark blue car came around the bend of the last hill and turned into the driveway, Stiles’ nervousness miraculously vanished and he began bouncing on his toes the same way the children did when they were excited.

Derek laughed at him.

“What?” Stiles asked.

“Nothing,” Derek said, amused.

“I’m excited to see Wyatt,” Stiles told him. “We haven’t seen one another in three years. He was in Europe when Sophia died and couldn’t make it to the funeral. The last time I saw him was when we brought Danika up to meet the Rosewood pack right after she was born.”

“And yet you were nervous,” Derek drawled.

“Oh shut up,” Stiles said. “It’s not like I even understand my brain half of the time, I’m not asking you to.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Derek said. “Seriously, I mean that.”

“I know,” Stiles said and gave him a cheesy grin. “That’s why you love me.”

Knowing that there was an Alpha in the car five feet away from him was truly the only thing that kept Derek from replying, ‘I do’. He had to keep in control today. An Alpha could sense attraction, lust and love, much easier than a Beta ever could. Derek had done a good job of hiding his attraction to Stiles from everyone but Scott. This would be the real test, now that he knew Stiles was his mate and his desire for him were more potent, it would be harder to hide from Brogan. The man was arrogant and he rarely kept his thoughts to himself. He’d have no problem with stating it in front of Stiles, or at least inquire about it if he suspected Derek’s feelings for Stiles were anything other than platonic.

  
~*~

Derek truly enjoyed hosting Arek’s birthday party in their home. He loved the little boy dearly and watching his reactions as he opened his gifts, blew out his candles and played with the other wolves was something he cherished. Tip-toeing around the most powerful Alpha in California however, had stopped being fun long before it ever really began. Thankfully, he’d made it through the entire party without getting any knowing looks or inquiries. Everyone except Scott had gone home and Stiles was upstairs bathing the children and getting them ready for bed. Derek finally felt like he could relax, though Scott and he were cleaning up the backyard, it was the first time he felt at peace all day.

They were talking and laughing about Klaudia and Killian’s complete disregard for cutlery while they devoured their cake, as they tossed the pile of trash bags into the dumpster behind the garage. What happened next, that shattered Derek’s peace, was entirely Scott’s fault. For a moment, he didn’t even realize what had happened, but then he heard Scott’s laughter and looked down at himself.

“Dude! I’m so sorry,” Scott said, truly giggling like he wasn’t an adult or something. “I thought I tied it, I swear. I thought I tied it.”

The trash bag Scott had been throwing into the dumpster had opened up and spilled all over Derek. Honestly, Derek was considering killing Scott, but that would upset Stiles and it was truly the only reason he didn’t at the very least punch him in the face. “You’re cleaning this up,” he growled and walked toward the garden hose that was rolled up against the garage.

“No problem,” Scott said sheepishly and starting picking up pieces of trash littering the ground around the garbage cans.

Derek was so disgusted by the trash juices and the horrific smells from the flavors of the party’s waste saturating him that he didn’t think twice about stripping down to his boxer briefs. He turned on the water, grabbed the nozzle and began spraying himself off.

“Jesus, Derek!” Scott yelled and ran toward him. “What the fuck happened to you?”

Derek could actually feel the blood drain from his face and though the water had been cold, his body felt like it was turning to ice. He’d been so careful, this whole time, he’d been so careful. There was no way that Scott wouldn’t tell Stiles.

“Derek,” Scott whined and took the hose out of Derek’s hand. He made a move to touch the marks on Derek’s shoulders but Derek moved away. “Derek, tell me what happened. Did you and Brogan get in a fight or something?”

Derek considered lying, knew that Scott had just given him an out, but it wasn’t really. If he said that he and Brogan had fought, it would incite a pack war that the Hales would no doubt lose. “No, it wasn’t Brogan.”

“From another Alpha?” Scott asked, frowning. “Is there another Alpha in our territory?”

“Don’t worry about it, Scott,” Derek growled, his eyes flashing red. “It’s not any of your business.”

“It is,” Scott insisted. “You’re my Alpha and if you have scrapes and cuts that aren’t healing… Wait, is that a bite mark?”

“Go inside the house. Now,” Derek told him, shifting into his beta form.

“Derek, please,” Scott tried again, putting his hand on his shoulder. “Tell me who did that to you.”

“Go!” Derek yelled.

Scott backed away and cocked his head to the side in submission and then ran back toward the house. 

“They’re from my mate,” Derek spoke under his breath, shifted into his wolf form and took off for the forest.

To be Continued in Chapter Eight


	9. Chapter Eight: "Wound Together"

**Chapter Eight: “Wound Together”**

_“Believing that dots will connect down the road will give you the confidence to follow your heart even when it leads you off the well-worn path... that will make all the difference.”_ ~Steve Jobs

The kids were freshly bathed and smelled of baby lotion and shampoo. Danika and Arek were curled up together under the covers on the big bed, while Klaudia was already fast asleep in the portable crib. It had been a hard day to get through, Stiles missed Sophia so much and it tore him apart when he realized that Arek didn’t seem to even realize that she was missing. He definitely hadn’t expected the talk he’d had with Derek before the party, but he must have needed it, because even though he didn’t agree with everything Derek had said, he had been right about a lot of things and that had been hard to face. Once he had, he felt a lot better and was able to relax and have fun with his kids and his pack. Not even Marcus’ watchful, judging eyes had managed to bother him. The party went on, everyone thankfully got along, and he got the added bonus of spending time with two old friends.

Stiles first kissed Arek’s cheek and then Danika’s. “Good night, sleep tight, don’t let the werewolves bite.”

Danika and Arek both laughed as they always did.

“I love you, I’ll see you in the morning,” Stiles told them.

“See Gampa?” Arek asked, temporarily popping his thumb out of his mouth.

“Yes, tomorrow morning Grandpa and Melissa are going to pick you guys up and take you to the park. Grandpa Marcus and Alpha Brogan are going to be there too and have a breakfast picnic with you.”

“Okay,” Arek said, yawning and closing his eyes.

Stiles kissed them both one more time. “Good night, I love you.”

“Love you, Daddy,” Danika replied, fighting to keep her eyes open.

Stiles stopped by Klaudia’s crib and bent down to kiss her goodnight as well. She stirred a little from her sleep and made soft little sucking noises with her lips around her pacifier. Stiles had debated taking it from her many times, but he just couldn’t do it. Derek was proof positive that just because you were born a werewolf it didn’t guarantee perfect teeth, but he also knew the pacifier gave her comfort and security. He would wait until she turned two and then gradually try to wean her off of it.

Stiles walked over to the dresser, turned on the baby monitor and then shut off the light. “Happy Birthday, Arek,” he whispered and closed the door behind him. He was tired too and it had been tempting to just curl up and go to sleep with the kids, but he couldn’t just leave all the cleaning to Scott and Derek.

“Stiles.”

“Oh shit!” Stiles jumped and almost fell off the last step of the staircase, but managed to catch himself before doing so. “Jesus, Scott, have you been taking pointers in lurking from Derek?”

Scott pulled on Stiles’ wrist. “Come on, we’ve got to sit down and talk. The media room downstairs is soundproof, right?”

Stiles yanked his arm away from Scott, now instantly alert. “What the hell is going on?”

Scott shook himself and sighed. “I need to talk to you, about Allison.”

“Okay,” Stiles said uncertainly. The expression on Scott’s face wasn’t nearly as pained and forlorn looking as it usually was whenever they were fighting. “Why exactly can’t Derek hear this?”

Scott’s head swiveled back and forth around the living room and his nostrils flared. “Derek isn’t here right now, he went for a run, but if he gets back I don’t want him listening in. It’s about private sex stuff, all right? Stuff I can only discuss with my very best friend.”

Stiles’ gut told him that Scott was lying, but it was confusing him as to why he would. “All right, just let me grab the other portable intercom.” He walked over to where they usually kept it in the living room and grabbed it from the holster. “Is this a dire emergency, or can I grab a soda first?”

“I’ll get you a soda,” Scott told him.

Scott wasn’t faster than Stiles could blink, but his supernatural speed did have him bolting into the kitchen and standing back in front of Stiles with a can of coke about ten seconds later. “Thanks.”

“Let’s go,” Scott said.

  
~*~

Stiles followed his friend to the stairs that led down to the basement which was divided into a media room on one side and a hidden panic room on the other. Every time he passed it, a shudder ran through his body as the reasons Derek had the room built came to mind. The basement in the old Hale house had been supposed to be the passage way to safety, but it had quickly turned into a prison and then a tomb. Stiles had only seen the inside of the safe room once, right after the home was built and the Hales, Isaac and he were the only ones with the pass code to enter it. It wasn’t that Derek didn’t trust the rest of his pack; it was because the fewer people that knew the code, the better, and the four of them were usually there whenever anyone else in the pack was there and might need it.

“Stiles!” Scott shouted leaning against the closed door to the media room.

“What?” Stiles half fell down onto one of the comfortable sofas.

“You weren’t listening to me,” Scott said.

“Sorry, dude,” Stiles apologized. He turned on the intercom and placed it on the coffee table in front of him. “You know that whenever I come down here I get the heebie-jeebies.”

Scott rubbed his hands over his ears. “When my son is born, I don’t think I’m going to be able to handle Allison having those all over the house. You have no idea how distracting they are.”

"You don't know for certain that it's a boy, and also if I had werewolf hearing, and if so many rooms in this house weren’t soundproof I wouldn’t have to have one of these, but I do. You have soundproofed a couple of the rooms in your house, so you’re going to need the monitors and you’re going to have to get used to them.”

“I know man, I know,” Scott said and dropped down next to Stiles. “You just have no idea how hard it is to not focus on every single one of their heartbeats, movements or noises they make.”

“I do know,” Stiles said. “At least the noises and movements, anyway. The first time I was alone with Danika and was in another room, I jumped every time she breathed deeply or rustled the blankets. I ended up just sitting in her room staring at her and counting her breaths until Derek came over and pulled me out of the nursery.”

“Speaking of Derek,” Scott segued, a wince on his face.

“What?” Stiles asked.

“Allison and I aren’t fighting and I don’t have anything to tell you about our sex lives. I only said that upstairs in case he was somehow listening in from nearby and I couldn’t tell.”

“Yeah I kind of figured that,” Stiles said. “You’re not nearly freaked out enough to be having Allison troubles.” He crossed his legs, took a drink of his sofa and motioned for Scott to continue.

“Something happened outside when we were cleaning up,” Scott told him.

Stiles stiffened. “Is he hurt?”

“No, no. I mean not exactly or anything.”

“Not exactly?” Stiles asked. “I don’t think it’s possible to be not exactly hurt! Either you are or you aren’t.”

“Fine,” Scott sighed. “Look, long story short, I spilled garbage on Derek, he undressed and washed himself off with the hose and I saw a bunch of marks all over him.”

Stiles mouth hung open for a minute. “Marks?”

“Yeah, more like scratches really, except for the thing I think was a bite mark.”

“Somebody bit him?” Stiles asked lowly. “Who?”

Scott looked absolutely miserable. “His mate.”

“What?” Stiles shrieked. “Who the fuck is…”

“I don’t know!” Scott said. “At first I thought maybe he’d gotten into a fight at some point that none of us saw with Brogan or something. Because they weren’t healed, like at all. They looked like they’d just happened. I tried to ask him what happened, but he just told me it wasn’t Brogan and that it wasn’t any of my business.”

“Could it have been another Alpha?” Stiles asked, his body shaking with fear.

“No. Now that I realize what they are I can tell they aren’t those types of marks,” Scott said. “I mean… I guess his mate could be an Alpha, but either way I know they’re from his mate.”

“How do you know this?” Stiles demanded.

“He didn’t mean to tell me, he was angry that I even asked about them and took off toward the woods,” Scott said. “He thought I was too far away and quietly said, ‘They’re from my mate,’ and then continued into the woods.”

“You’re certain that’s what he said?” Stiles asked. His fears were abating, but they were quickly being replaced by other feelings he didn’t want to give their proper names just now.

“Absolutely positive,” Scott told him. “He’s been hiding it for a while I think. At Killian’s birthday party, when we were playing basketball against those guys from Jackson’s law firm, they called shirts first. Then Derek made a big deal about it, saying we had home court advantage or some shit and eventually they agreed to be skins. The pack was all looking at him like he was crazy, so he quietly told us that it was because he didn’t want us to intimidate them with our perfectly toned physiques. He said it like it was a big joke, you know? But thinking back on it, it’s obvious to me now that he was hiding the marks.”

Stiles nodded and gulped down a few drinks of his soda, wishing he had something stronger. “So he’s just what? Forcing himself not to heal?”

Scott tilted his head to the side and gave Stiles an odd look. “I guess in a way, since he must not want to complete the mating.”

“What do you mean ‘in a way’ and what does this have to do with mates? What are they supposed to mean? Is it a badge of honor or something to have a roll in the hay with another werewolf and get marked up? No, no, he isn’t showing them to anyone and he was pissed you saw them, right? He was pissed that you asked about them and… Holy crap!” Stiles said, slamming his hands down on his thighs. “Anytime I’ve mentioned him wearing his shirt in the pool or during full moon runs, he’s gotten pissed at me. Scott, this has been going on since at least April!”

“Stiles!” Scott leaned close and stared directly into his eyes. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You guys always take your shirts off when…”

“No, not that!” Scott interrupted and backed away, his face draining of color. “Why are you asking what the marks mean when he said they’re from his mate? Why are you asking me what they have to do with mating?”

Stiles blinked slowly and shook his head. “Maybe because I don’t know?” He waved his hands around. “I am not exactly up to date on Alpha werewolf mating rituals.”

“ _Alpha_ ,” Scott drew out the word in a raspy breath. “You…” Scott stood up and clapped his hands together. “Okay, you know what? We don’t need to talk about this. I don’t know why I even brought it up. Like Derek told me, it is none of my business. I shouldn’t have…”

“It is our business!” Stiles said. “If Derek has a mate out there that he’s afraid of introducing us to them, then he we need to at least find out who it is. Maybe the marks are still there because his mate left him and he wants to be reminded of them or something?”

“No, Stiles,” Scott said, his words shaky. “What we need to do is to butt out. Derek doesn’t want to tell us and he probably has a good reason.”

“A good reason?” Stiles baulked and stood up. “Don’t give me that bullshit. You’re scared for him, Scott. I can tell you’re flipping out. Being a werewolf doesn’t wipe away a lifetime of brotherhood, dude. I know you! You know something is wrong. Tell me what it is and we’ll come up with a plan to help Derek.”

“I can’t,” Scott said, practically whimpering. “I can’t tell you, Stiles.”

Stiles was stunned by Scott’s change of demeanor and growing scared once again. Scott looked like he was about to fall apart. Stiles stepped closer to Scott and reached out for him, holding his friend’s hands. “Scott, please tell me. Tell me what’s going on with this Alpha mating stuff. If you think you’re not supposed to and think that you’ll face some kind of retaliation for it, I won’t tell anyone you said a word to me. I promise. I’ll pretend like…”

“Oh, Stiles,” Scott croaked and squeezed his hands back. “You don’t know anything about it, do you?”

“No,” Stiles said adamantly. “Believe it or not, there is a lot of werewolf stuff I still don’t know about. But you can tell me. Whatever it is, I… I don’t like you being so upset. Just tell me and we’ll decide together if there’s something we need to do to help Derek.”

“It isn’t about Derek anymore,” Scott said and pulled him back to the couch. “Stiles, I swear that I thought you knew. The legends…”

“What legends exactly?”

“The legends of the Rosewood pack, of their ancestors, the Wiyots…” Scott sighed and raked his hands through his hair. “Do you know about them?”

“Of course. Even before I met Sophia I heard the story. The Wiyots and all wolves who share their blood have some sort of supernatural instinct that helps them find their mate. It’s sort of like love at first sight and they’re never wrong. This knowledge has only been disputed a few times in history and any time it has been, the wolf disputing it was always proven wrong. The Rosewoods have the strongest blood ties to the Wiyots and its one of the reasons they’re so well respected by other packs.”

“Okay,” Scott said and breathed deeply. “You have that part right. But have you ever wondered how the disputes were settled?”

Stiles scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I’m pretty sure it was in a bloody battle to the death.”

“No, it’s a lot simpler than that,” Scott spoke in a monotone voice. “I should’ve actually asked if you knew how it was proven.”

“There are ways for all wolves to prove who their mate is?” Stiles asked. “I mean, beyond just showing how much you love each other?”

“Yes,” Scott bowed his head in sorrow.

“This is a pretty big deal?” Stiles guessed.

Scott looked back up at him and now there were tears shining in his eyes. “Yeah, it’s a big deal. It’s such a big deal and so important that _every_ werewolf who is not of Wiyot blood seeks this proof before they declare their mate as their own. After they have proven it, they complete the mating ritual either in a public ceremony or privately.”

Stiles let out a relieved sigh and settled back against the sofa. “So that’s why I don’t know about this weird shit,” he said. “Sophia didn’t have to prove anything to anyone.”

“No, werewolves with Wiyot blood are so certain of their mate that they usually don’t perform the ritual until after a public mating declaration, a traditional wedding or during a pack mating ceremony. Usually when Rosewoods marry, they perform the ritual in front of their whole pack at their service. If they don’t do it in public, they still perform the ritual with their declared mate. It’s the same beginning of the ritual that every werewolf not of Wiyot blood performs for proof.”

Stiles felt like there were ants crawling all over his skin and he was terrified of the answer to the question he had yet to ask, but was too desperate to hear the truth to stop himself from asking it. “Even if two people had a small wedding, without any traditional pack stuff, the ritual would still be done in private if they were mates?”

“Yes,” Scott said, scooting closer to Stiles. “It is always done after a werewolf declares another as their mate, whether they’re legally married or not.”

“Even if a werewolf was marrying a human?” Stiles asked, tears spilling down his cheeks.

“Yes.”

“I would know,” Stiles sobbed the words out. “I would know if me and Sophia did the ritual, right?”

“Yes, Stiles,” Scott draped his arms over Stiles’ shoulders and pulled him closer.

Stiles gripped Scott’s shirt in his fists and stared pleadingly into his eyes. “Is there a reason a werewolf wouldn’t want to do the ritual with their partner?”

“Stiles, I’m sorry,” Scott wept. “I didn’t want to tell you. If I’d known before, I never would’ve…”

“Answer me,” Stiles interrupted, shaking Scott. “Tell me, Scott.”

“I…” Scott shook his head.

“Have you ever heard of a werewolf marrying someone and not performing this mating ritual?”

“No,” Scott said, voice broken. “Never. Definitely not a Wiyot blooded were.”

Stiles licked his lips and nodded his head as he tried to search for something, some memory that would be meaningful enough to be proof that he and Sophia had completed anything close to a werewolf ritual mate bond. He remembered their wedding and the night of vividly. They had done other sexual things together before, but on their wedding night he’d been a text book virgin and every single moment of it had been etched into his memory. It had been special and meaningful, but he could not think of a single moment that occurred that was any part of a ritual. That night Sophia had not told him that he was her mate in any sort of profound manner. She’d called him her mate many times previous to that and after, but it was just as a substitute for the words boyfriend, fiancé, or husband.

He went back further, before their wedding, hoping that perhaps they’d done some sort of ritual then, but still he found no evidence of one. Stiles suddenly felt like he’d had his ribs cracked open and someone had stabbed his heart with a poisoned dagger. Its beat got faster with every breath he tried to take and it felt like it was no longer pumping blood through his system, but instead carried ripples of pure agony that doubled in intensity by the second, assaulting his nervous system. “I would…” He choked on the panic within him and had to swallow a couple of breaths before he could continue. “I would know the ritual?”

“Yes, Stiles, you would know. That’s why I thought… I thought you would understand the significance of me finding the unhealed marks on Derek and hearing him admit they were from his mate,” Scott explained. “I didn’t realize they were from that at first because Brogan was here and that was what my immediate thought. I figured that when they talked alone down here earlier, that maybe they fought and because the room is soundproofed we didn’t hear it. When Derek said he hadn’t fought with him, all I could think was that maybe another Alpha were around and Derek was waiting to tell us because he didn’t want to ruin Arek’s birthday and felt that we were safe enough to hold off saying anything. Then he said it, right before he shifted, he said it. Oh god, I’m ruining this day for you. I’m ruining what you…”

“She ruined it,” Stiles gaped and felt the world around him spinning, the corners of his vision turning black as he felt like he was about to pass out. “She knew…”

“Stiles!” Scott shouted. “You’ve got to breathe, dude. Hey, it’s okay, you’re having a panic attack, but it’ll be all right. Look at me, please.”

“I can’t,” Stiles rasped, feeling weaker and seeing his surroundings less. “I was… I was no… no one… to her. Why… She… Why did…”

“I don’t know,” Scott forced Stiles to lie down on his back and placed his hands on his chest so Stiles could feel his steadier breathing. “Dude, please. You have to focus on my breathing. We’ll get through this, we’ll talk it out and eventually I swear to you everything will be okay. Just try and breathe with me.”

“Can’t,” Stiles moaned and his eyes rolled back into his head. “Hurts… hurts…” He saw pure blackness for a few seconds and his whole body numbed, until suddenly the side of his face was stinging with pain that distracted him from the phantom pain of his breaking heart. The force of the slap made his eyes open and he clearly saw Scott, sitting beside him and looking a mixture of guilty and relieved.

“Sorry,” Scott said quickly. “I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t want you to pass out, you were going to pass out if I didn’t do it!”

Stiles blinked the tears from his eyes and felt his heart’s pace begin to slow as he sat up. He wiped his hands over his face and tried to push away the betrayal and grief that was suffocating his mind. He used the techniques his therapists taught him to calm down. “Tell me the truth,” he said, once he had stopped breathing so fast. He pinned Scott’s eyes with his own. “Tell me. Say it. Tell me why Sophia wouldn’t perform the ritual with me.”

Scott wheezed a sigh of his name in protest, “Stiles.”

Stiles swallowed. “Tell me. I’m not… I’m not going to freak out more than I am right now. I can handle this.”

“I think your panic attack and racing heart says otherwise,” Scott said. “Don’t make me.”

“Please,” Stiles tried. “I’m doing what my therapist has taught me. I’m taking a mental picture of the pain and storing it away. I can make it stay there until I feel safe enough, strong enough to examine the pieces of it again. You can tell me now.”

“Stiles, don’t,” Scott warned him. “Don’t. It doesn’t matter, okay? It’s better that you don’t know.”

“I need to hear you say it, so that I can be sure. Sophia baulked at almost all of her family’s traditions, she never wanted to talk about them and if she did it was only to joke about them or rant about how old fashion and oppressive they were. She said there were strict guidelines that insured obedience to the Alpha, and rarely allowed room for independent thoughts or actions. She said that their traditions for marriages and the roles within it were out of date and unrealistic. I don’t know how many times I heard her say that while we were still at school, that she had no control over her own life. That she wouldn’t have control over it until she mated. So tell me, Scott. Was this ritual really just another thing she thought was oppressing and old fashioned?”

“I wish it was,” Scott admitted, wiping his eyes. “I wish it was, Stiles.”

“What is it exactly? This ritual?”

“If a werewolf’s mate wounds them, the wound will not heal until their mate’s saliva or sometimes just their touch heals it. It’s rare that a wolf is not quickly healed by their mate licking the wounds right after they happen. If they’re not, the wound festers, gets bigger. A scratch can become inches deep. That is how wolves prove who their mate is. They usually scratch or bite them and if the wound does not heal within minutes, they are their mate.”

“What about Alpha wounds?” Stiles asked.

“In the case of two Alphas, they immediately lick it afterward to see if it heals. The ritual that completes the mating involves the couple making an intentional mark on their mate that will leave a scar.”

“You and Allison have done this?”

“Yes.”

“Why can’t I see your scar?”

“Many marks are places where no one else sees them and it doesn’t have to be very big, it’s all about intent. I marked Allison on the inside of the dominant finger she uses to draw her bow.” Scott leaned back a little and lifted his shirt. He pointed to a tiny spot below his belly button, covered in hair. “Mine is under the hair, so you can’t see it too well. It’s where she decided she wanted it and that’s how it’s done. Your mate chooses the place for the permanent mark.” He dropped his shirt. “The thing is, when you’re making love with…”

Stiles narrowed his eyes. “Making love? Really, Scott?”

Scott stared. “That’s what it is, Stiles. When you make love with your mate for the first time, you yearn to complete the ritual, even if you don’t yet know what it is. Deaton told me about it shortly after I met Allison. That’s why I’ve always been so certain we would work out, no matter what happened between us.”

“You never told me,” Stiles said. “You never told me any of this. Why?”

“I thought you knew, Stiles. You were the one who researched everything! Jesus, when I did try to talk to you about sex with Allison you told me that you didn't want details. I figured that you would’ve found out about everything having to do with werewolf sex and mating rituals in one of the many books you've read. When you married Sophia, I thought you were completely in the know about all of it.”

“Is it possible she didn’t think we needed the ritual?” Stiles asked hopefully.

“The wolf that’s always there inside of you becomes such an overwhelming part of you once you truly know you’ve found your mate. For those with Wiyot blood who need no proof before they declare themselves to their mate, it’s no different. No Beta has the control or power to stop themselves from completing the ritual with their mate for very long, not after they’ve declared them their mate. An Alpha might have the strength to suppress the need for a little longer than a Beta, but not much.”

“But you and Allison broke up and…”

“I hadn’t officially declared my intent to be her mate, to have her as my mate, which makes a big difference.”

“Intent,” Stiles said, nodding. “It’s all about intent.”

“Yes. There is another way for humans to know who their mate is, too.”

“What?” Stiles gaped.

“Because a human may be scared of the ritual, which is a two-way street by the way, there is another way they can know if a werewolf is their mate, though they will still perform the ritual after this confirmation.”

“How?” Stiles asked. “And why is this more shit I don’t fucking know?”

“Because,” Scott said emphatically. “This is stuff I figured you would’ve read. I’ve seen it while going through Derek’s books. It’s kind of hard to miss, so many of them tell of it.”

“I never read anything about this,” Stiles said in a clipped tone. “Can we get over that and will you just tell me how a human can know.”

“By asking,” Scott said. “A wolf cannot lie when a human asks them if they are their mate.”

“I asked her to marry me,” Stiles said. “I got down on one knee and I asked Sophia to marry me. She said yes, obviously!”

“That’s different. You have to ask the exact question starting with their name and then say, ‘Are you my mate?’ A wolf is compelled to answer that question with only the truth. Did you ever ask Sophia that question?”

“No, I never asked her that,” Stiles said. “I wouldn’t have thought that it was necessary to be so specific, especially because we referred to one another as such long before we were married. But what about waiting?” Stiles asked. “Nobody thought it was weird that we waited so long to be married after we met? Her family never said anything, you guys never said anything about us waiting to be married! Didn’t you think it was odd that she could refrain from being with me?”

“We thought you’d already completed the ritual, Stiles, and that there was no point in bringing it up. Yeah, everyone in the pack cares about you, loves you, wants you to be happy, but do you really think that we would’ve wanted her to join our pack before you were married if we thought you hadn’t already completed the ritual? She had Wiyot blood in her; we didn’t ever think to question her, or even you, about it. Her parents, her Alpha, they had to have thought you both had done it privately too.”

“You didn’t think it was strange that we didn’t talk about it?” Stiles asked.

“You haven’t known about any of the wolves in our packs and the rituals they’ve performed with their mates, not even mine and we’re best friends. Also, that first Christmas, when you introduced her to us for the first time… Do you remember how none of us believed that you’d only just affirmed you were a couple, even though you had known one another all semester? We thought you were being shy because she was your first girlfriend and you didn’t want to tell us when you finally did the deed. Isaac kept ribbing you guys about it and Derek finally stopped him because you looked so embarrassed.”

“I was embarrassed of my pack’s reaction to her,” Stiles admitted. “I wanted you all to like her so much and the way Isaac kept on about it, it made me feel like he was calling her a slut. We didn’t even go all the way until after we were married!” 

“Whenever you worried about doing something to piss her off, or worried about being separated because you thought she’d find someone else, someone better, I figured that you were just being you. I thought you were overanalyzing things and being self-deprecating the way you get sometimes. I was so positive things would work out with you guys.”

Stiles desperately wanted to find something, anything, which would dispute what his brain was telling him. “What about Henry? He knew for certain that we didn’t start seeing one another until right before Christmas break!”

“Really?” Scott asked. “Were you that close to him before you and Sophia were together that you would tell him if you slept with his sister or not?”

Stiles stilled. “No.”

“Yeah, I doubt he would’ve asked you,” Scott said. “He probably thought that you guys had been hiding it well and it’s not exactly a comfortable topic when family is involved.”

“But wouldn’t he have realized that he never smelled her on me before we said we were together?” Stiles asked.

“Dude, I was sort of jealous when Henry became your stand-in best friend while you were in school, but not enough to not realize that he’s a good guy and a good friend to you. I don’t think he would’ve thought too hard about it. I don’t think he would’ve wanted his sister to marry someone who wasn’t…”

“Who wasn’t her mate,” Stiles said, his voice hoarse. “Why did she want to? Why did she do that to me? Why did she lie to me and to herself?”

“Because she loved you,” Scott said simply. “Mate bond or not, Stiles, we could all tell that she loved you.”

“You don’t do something like this to someone you love,” Stiles said. “You don’t… you don’t keep something like this from them. Did she really think that I wouldn’t ever find out? We had children together. Would she have just not told them about the ritual to keep it from me too?”

“I don’t know,” Scott said sadly.

“Did she think that it was funny?” Stiles asked, getting angry now. “Did she think, ‘Oh he’s a human so he’s not going to know shit!’ How did she know that I had no idea about it in the first place? How did she know she could pull it off?”

“Did she ever ask you what you knew about mates?” Scott asked.

“Yes,” Stiles cried out. “She fucking asked me what I knew about mates when…” He couldn’t believe he was so stupid. He laughed, but it wasn’t a happy one. “She asked right before we did sex stuff together for the first time. That was the day before we left to spend winter break here, when she met the pack for the first time.”

“I’m so sorry, Stiles.”

“I’m so angry with her!” Stiles said. “She was my wife, Scott! She is the mother of my children and she’s gone now and I’m grieving for her because I loved her, but now I just feel like she’s made me a huge fool. I don’t know what to do now.”

“It doesn’t have to change anything,” Scott told him. “Your marriage was still a marriage. The love was real.”

“I changed for her,” Stiles confessed. “I changed for her because… because I felt like I should. I freaking forced myself to stop crushing on someone I’d been in love with for years, because me and her were suddenly endgame. I felt like she’d be stuck with me, stuck with a person that nobody had ever even found attractive, let alone wanted to date. I wasn’t the type of person she really wanted, but she had no choice. She wanted a responsible, mature, well-spoken man for her mate and I couldn’t go against fate, could I? I thought we were meant to be together forever and I wanted her to be proud of her mate and the life I could give her. You say this knowledge that I have now, this betrayal, that it doesn’t have to change anything, but it already did. I changed my life for her, Scott. It wasn’t just the damn wardrobe or what I watched on television or the damn gaming club I quit at school because she thought it was childish. I changed my future for her. I never told anyone this, but I was offered a scholarship from the college my last year there.”

“What? Stiles I can’t believe you turned down…”

“I know! They were going to pay for me to get my Masters, to take the courses that financial aid wouldn’t pay for. I was going to get a degree that would’ve allowed me to teach history to high school students, like I wanted to.”

“Like your Mom,” Scott said.

Stiles nodded. “She was so mad when I told her about the offer. She said she’d already given up her pack, given up everything for me. Sophia had it all planned out and she said I was going to ruin everything if I accepted the scholarship. She couldn’t move back to Sacramento while I completed my Masters, she loved the job she had here and the house we bought. She said that I’d promised her a big family, that if I really understood love, I would make sacrifices for it and come home like we planned. Then we would start our family. So I did that because I loved her and after Danika was born, I looked into taking online courses at the local college to work toward the Masters degree, but she shut me down. She said it wasn’t part of our plan. She said that mates stuck together, made decisions that wouldn’t hurt their mate and that a real man would want what was best for his family. I wouldn’t have as much time for Danika if I was working and taking courses too. I was her mate. I was her mate, so I had to do what a mate would do!”

“Stiles, I never knew that it was like that,” Scott said. “I wish I’d known. I could’ve…”

“You couldn’t have done anything,” Stiles interrupted him. “I loved her for loving me. I was thrilled that I’d gotten lucky enough to be the mate of a Rosewood, to be her mate. I wanted to do anything I could do to be worthy of that title. I wanted to have my kids, Scott, I swear to you, I wanted them.”

“I know,” Scott said shakily, taking Stiles hand. “You don’t have to try to make me believe that, Stiles. I know you did and I know you love them more than anything on this earth.”

“I do,” Stiles said, teary. “But I didn’t want them so fast. I wanted a big family. I wanted six kids. I’m not kidding, when I told Sophia that was how many I wanted, she thought I was joking at first, but then she said that she’d come from such a big family, that she wanted to have a big family too, but that we’d do it right. I thought we’d still wait a few years after Danika was born and then try again. She didn’t like that idea because she said that she wanted them all close in age. She didn’t want to be too old by the time we had our last. I was happy with Sophia. I know that by telling you this, it probably makes it sound like I wasn’t happy, I was. People can be happy with their lives even when it isn’t exactly the life they thought it’d be.”

“I know that all too well,” Scott said, and gave him a small smile and flashing his golden eyes. “I don’t know what to say that will make how fucked up this is, any easier for you. I wish I did. I loved Sophia like a sister, and I know she made you happy. I just think that now that she’s gone, maybe you should start thinking about molding the life you have now into the life you once thought you could have. If you do that, maybe you’ll be even happier.”

Stiles laughed morosely. “I don’t think you understand how fucked up I am.”

Scott shrugged. “I know there’s a lot of shit that’s going on in your head right now and you’re second-guessing all of your decisions or the things she told you.”

It was true, Stiles was making a mental check list of everything that could’ve been a lie from Sophia’s mouth. “Yeah.”

“But you need to remember the good. First off are your children,” Scott said. “No matter how they came about, having them can always be what makes every second of your life leading up until now, worth anything you changed. You have to focus on that.”

“I will,” Stiles said, determined.

“Another good thing about you changing is that you finally let go of your crush on Lydia,” Scott said. “You two are awesome friends. Hell, you’re even friends with Jackson now. Good friends.”

“Lydia?” Stiles questioned. “I stopped crushing on her in Junior year. I didn’t need Sophia for that.”

“But you said, y… y… you… Who is it that you thought you were in love with when you met Sophia?” Scott asked in a demanding tone.

“You don’t know?” Stiles asked. “Are you serious? It was obvious. He knew that at the very least I was attracted to him.”

“He!” Scott screeched. “Who?”

“Derek,” Stiles said rolling his eyes. “How did you not…”

“Derek?” Scott whispered, his eyes wide.

“Uh… Yeah. Derek Hale.”

“You. Were. In. Love. With. Derek. Hale.”

Stiles let out a deep breath. “Yes. Jesus, Lydia knew, Jackson knew, Cora knew! How did you not know?”

“I don’t know,” Scott said shakily. “I… Oh my god!”

“It’s not that big of a deal,” Stiles said. “I knew it was pointless. I mean, he never showed any interest in me and I sort of made it obvious at one point that I was interested in him. Then I went to college, married Sophia and when I came back we became best friends. That’s the way it was meant to be. It’s a good thing too, especially now that he has this mate that’s just out there…” Stiles stood abruptly. “Holy shit, Scott! No wonder why he fucking runs from the room every time I’m in it and can’t be alone with me. He didn’t want his mate to be jealous. Oh man, he probably thought I was hitting on him when I told him to take off his shirt and oh shit… His mate! His mate will hate me. Shit! I’m living in Derek’s house with my children, no wonder he’s keeping it quiet. I was right when I told my dad that I was ruining his life. I told him! I said…”

Scott launched upright and covered Stiles’ mouth. “You need to stop with the rambling and let me just have a minute to like realize what you just admitted to me. Okay?”

Stiles yanked Scott’s hand away from his mouth. “Dude, not cool!”

“You know what’s not cool?” Scott asked, breathing hard and fast as he began to pace in front of Stiles. “What’s not cool is having no idea that your best friend is in love with your Alpha.”

“WAS!” Stiles said pointedly.

“Was?” Scott stopped and stared at him. “Tell me right now. Slowly, so that I can hear your heart and don’t try to make it be one steady rhythm because that will give it away.”

Stiles glared. “I am not in love… Scott, this is ridiculous and pointless. It’s been over ten years since I first started crushing on him. So what if I might still have a little bit of inappropriate lingering feelings for him.”

“Why do you think they’re inappropriate?”

“Because I was married,” Stiles said. “Because I loved Sophia and it was wrong to ever feel attracted to him.”

“You’re not married now,” Scott pointed out.

“Just because I just learned that she lied to me about something huge and I may be seeing her in a slightly, no very, different light, it doesn’t mean I’m just going to start falling in love with someone else.”

“What if you never fell out of love with him?” Scott asked. “Don’t you think it’s possible that your love for him never went away, but got hidden by all the love you had for Sophia?”

“What’s your point?” Stiles retorted, throwing his hands in the air. “He’s never going to love me or want to be with me. Scott, he has a mate. You heard him say it yourself. That’s what all this shit is about. He doesn’t want to kick me out of his home, so he’s been trying to keep it a secret.”

“Oh, he’s been keeping it a secret all right,” Scott growled. “But it’s how he got the marks that I just can’t figure out. There has to have been a moment it happened that…”

“Why would he tell you exactly how he got them if it’s something that’s usually kept private between mates? It’s no secret that even after all these years he doesn’t tell us everything. He was pissed you even asked.”

Scott smiled big and wide. “You’re right! He doesn’t tell us everything.”

“What? Why are you happy about that?”

“Derek can explain it to you, I think.”

“I’m freaking tired and I have no idea what you’re even talking about.”

“There’s something you need to ask Derek, but you may not be ready to hear it.”

“Okay, you know? I’ve had way too many deep conversations today. I just can’t do one more. I can’t.”

“Stiles, you’re going to want me to tell you this, ready or not.”

“What is this? Hide and seek?”

“Sure, let’s call it that. Because two people I know have been hiding their feelings and now I’m seeking them out.”

“Then tell me,” Stiles said. He put his hands on his hips and stood stiffly. “Hit me with it.”

“I want you to do something for me as soon as I leave and you find Derek.” Scott said and walked over to the small play area behind the sofas. He found what he was looking for and opened up a coloring book and grabbed a crayon from the children’s table.

“What are you doing?”

“I want you to read a message to Derek,” Scott said. He scribbled something down on the coloring page, tore it out and then folded it in half. “You have to promise me that you will not open this until you find him and make sure he’s going to listen to you.”

“This is crazy!” Stiles said. “Like seriously, dude, you’re insane.”

“How many times have I gone along with your crazy plans?” Scott asked. He flashed his golden eyes at Stiles and waved a clawed hand at him.

Stiles sighed. “Really, you’re going there? Right now?”

“Yes.” Scott folded the paper one more time and held it toward Stiles. “It’s that important that I’m playing the ‘got turned into a werewolf because of your crazy plans’ card. Promise me that you will wait to open that paper until you have his attention.”

“Why? What did you write?”

“It’s a message to Derek, but it can’t come from me. He’ll be pissed.”

“Dude, Derek isn’t that fond of me right now. He doesn’t even like to be alone with me.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t,” Scott said, but gave Stiles a smile. “This may help. You’re his second in command, dude. He’ll listen to you.”

“Is it like a magical cure for his broody behavior?”

“It might be,” Scott said in all seriousness.

“Is it something gross that I have to tell him?” Stiles asked, bemoaning. “Are you making me ask him if he’s fucked his mate yet or something equally as disturbing? I really don’t want to know. I mean, yeah, I guess I do sort of want to know… But not really… Oh shit! What if his mate is ugly? Or old! Is it possible that they’re an octogenarian? Would the fates actually do that to him? What if he’s embarrassed of them and that’s why he’s keeping it a secret?”

“Just promise me that you won’t open it until he’s listening to you and that you will read it to him. Swear to me right now. It’s important, Stiles. Swear on our friendship, now swear on our brotherhood.”

“Whoa, that’s intense.” Stiles deflated a little and nodded. “Okay, I promise on our brotherhood.”

“Okay, let’s go.” Scott picked up the monitor and handed it to Stiles.

“Fine,” Stiles sighed. “Jesus, this day is never going to end.”

Scott laughed softly as they exited the room and began climbing the stairs. “You can go to bed after this. Just do me this one favor.”

“All right,” Stiles agreed. As they entered the hallway, Stiles saw that all of the lights were turned off and the house was dark. “Did he come back?” he asked Scott, walking with him toward the living room.

Scott paused at the bottom of the staircase and pointed upward. “He’s in his room moving around because I can faintly hear the footsteps.”

Stiles sighed. “All right. Fine. I’m going to do this, but you owe me.”

“That’s a deal,” Scott said. “Call me tomorrow.”

“What, you don’t want me to call you after I…”

“Nope,” Scott interrupted. “Goodnight, Stiles. I love you, man.”

“Love ya, too.” Stiles looked up and the staircase loomed before him. He swallowed and took the steps two at a time. As he reached the landing at the top, he couldn’t see if there were lights on in Derek’s room. The soundproofed rooms had doors that were sealed all around the frames, not letting any light either in or out. Scott had been sure he was in his room though, so Stiles walked down to it. He stood outside of the door for almost a full minute before he raised his hand and knocked. When there was no answer after a moment or two, he raised his hand to knock again but stopped when he saw the handle move.

“Do you need something?” Derek asked, cracking the door open.

“I need to talk to you,” Stiles said.

Derek nodded and opened the door completely. He was dressed in baggy sweats and an old t-shirt. There was light behind him and the noise of the television with the volume low.

Stiles nodded. “Can I come in? Just for like a minute, okay? Please?”

Derek frowned and looked like he was about to say no, but stepped back enough for Stiles to slip under his arm and take a single step into the room. “Make it quick, I was about to go to sleep. I’m helping Isaac at the shop early tomorrow.”

Stiles walked into the room, going only far enough to clear the door as he closed it behind him. He wouldn’t let himself look around the room, or more specifically he would not let his eyes rest on the bed, which Derek had just climbed out of, looking sleep rumpled even if he hadn’t been asleep yet. “Okay. So, I have to give you a message.”

“Okay,” Derek said dryly and crossed his arms over his chest. “Did Scott put you up to this?”

“Sort of,” Stiles admitted. “He says this message is really important… so you know, don’t kill the messenger.” Stiles put the monitor on top of the dresser and once his hands were free he unfolded the paper. When he looked at it he saw a picture of Minnie Mouse and… “Oh, god.”

“Stiles,” Derek growled in a low tone. “What the fuck is the message? Why are you terrified right now?”

Stiles couldn’t believe that Scott had done this to him. He had already been betrayed by Sophia and now Scott was betraying him too? He looked at the words Scott had scribbled in the heart on Minnie’s dress and felt his mouth go dry. Scott had to have known that he would go through with this, so he had to know something more, or suspect something Stiles didn’t understand.

“What’s going on?” Derek asked, cupping Stiles’ face in his hand. “You’ve gone completely white and your heart rate is so fast.”

Stiles felt an electric surge of pleasure cascade through his body as Derek touched him and couldn’t help but lean his head into his hand.

“What’s on that paper, Stiles? Did Danika draw something weird from a nightmare again?” Derek dropped his hand from his face and reached out to take the paper.

“No!” Stiles pulled it behind his back and looked up into Derek’s eyes. “I need to ask you something.” He couldn’t believe this was actually happening. He couldn’t believe that he was actually going to do this. He couldn’t believe that Scott actually thought this was possible!

“So ask me,” Derek encouraged.

Stiles squeezed the paper in his hands and asked, still nearly breathless, “Derek Hale, are you my mate?”

Derek stared at Stiles with a shocked expression that within seconds disappeared as his face shifted into his beta form and his eyes turned red. “Yes,” he growled and then looked away from Stiles.

Stiles’ hands shook and the rest of his body did too. He couldn’t believe this. He didn’t know what to think of this.

Derek turned back to face him again and roared, “Get out of here! Get away from me!”

To Be Continued in Chapter Nine


	10. Chapter Nine: "Marks"

**Chapter Nine: “Marks”**

_“There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief... and unspeakable love.”_ ~Washington Irving

Derek had dealt with a lot of death in his life. Grief and mourning had nearly led to the ruin of him ever having another chance to function as a human being or werewolf. When he was reminded of the people he loved, the ‘and lost’ clouded the memories he had of them so thickly it was near impossible to think of them at all and still continue to breathe. He knew that he had only survived the years after the fire, both physically and mentally, because of his sister, Laura. After Laura died, the vengeance she had warned him from exacting upon his family's murderers threatened to consume him once again. 

Only, Derek didn't have to kill anyone as, one by one, the persons responsible for the death of his family died by the hand of Laura's killer only for him to lose his humanity. The man Peter had once been was lost to the purely primal instincts that poisoned his mind and even now, after he’d been brought back to life, Derek could see his constant struggle to fight the primal instincts. Though he hadn't harmed anyone in a long, long time, Derek knew that if he pushed hard enough, Peter could lose himself to his wolf again, this time irrevocably." There would never be a moment in his life that Derek didn’t feel guilt for what he had done, for the lives and futures he’d decimated and that had been why he allowed Peter to live.

Derek had survived the death of his family, watched Peter’s constant struggle and learned to live with the fact that he couldn’t change any of it. It made his resolve to be in control and be a better person, a better Alpha, that much stronger.

Derek hadn’t loved Stiles at first sight, nor he had he _not_ loved him the moment he first saw him at the supermarket when he had been way too young for Derek to think that they'd one day be together. No, he’d just see him from time to time around town and he’d feel something weird, but it was never present enough for him to think too hard about it. He didn’t think a single thing of it until he saw Stiles for what, even now, Stiles probably believed to be their first meeting. After that, for Derek, what he felt for Stiles had been a complicated mess of emotions that Derek’s raw nerves, heart and mind couldn’t quite comprehend. He had been grieving the loss of his sister, scared out of his mind and desperate to have a pack, to not be alone, but Derek couldn’t have taken much stock in the feelings Stiles ignited. He couldn’t trust that the feelings were real, because he had been so wrong about love before and it had cost him so much. At the time, the risk felt too high for him to think of examining the possibility that he had found his mate.

When life settled down in Beacon Hills, Derek allowed the reins he had on his wolf to slacken a little bit. He began giving in to his baser instincts and with every day that passed he became further aware of whom his wolf was drawn to. It took him a while to actually understand what he was feeling, to believe in it, when he hadn’t before. When, on the heels of the quietest summer Derek had ever had in his life and Stiles had showed up on the Hale property, Derek had fallen instantly in love with him, and continued to do so again and again over the course of the day. He had told himself it was just because Stiles had grown even taller, gained more muscle and definition in his jaw and had broader shoulders. Not to mention Stiles was undeniably the most attractive person to ever smile at him, and his smile was genuine and made Derek’s heart ache as it pounded a faster rhythm. He swore to himself that it was a crush, even while he felt the big, huge fall into the abyss of unrequited love happening at warp speed at the very thought of Stiles.

It had been demolition day for the old house. Everything of value and anything Derek had thought could be reused in the rebuild had been taken to the loft he'd been living in or stacked in a pile under a tarp, far away from the construction workers and vehicles. With Peter and Cora's help he had used what photographs and memories they had of the home to help the architect draft a plan that would essentially appear to be a remodel of the original, adding a little extra space and modern touches to it. The whole pack looked plans over together at the meeting the night before and they’d asked Derek if he wanted their help, or company, the day of, but Derek had told them he didn’t. He honestly wasn’t sure he would be able to stand being at the site for long as the structure came down and he didn’t want them to have to feel the pain he knew he would be in. It wasn’t just his own pain though, as the dust and debris stirred in the air, the smell of life, death and possibly even long buried chemo signals would come uprooted. He particularly didn’t want any of the wolves to experience what he alone deserved to sense and feel if that happened.

Stiles, of course hadn’t cared what Derek said and the moment Derek had heard the sound of the Jeep coming up the gravel driveway, his anxious energy slightly abated. When Stiles’ scent had not been accompanied by another and then minutes later he saw him get out of the car, Derek had almost cried with relief. He had tried to act as he always did with Stiles, said some pissy remark to him, but got nothing but a smile in return. Stiles had bumped their shoulders together as he took a spot beside Derek, standing at the bottom of the hill near the tree line, eyes fixed on the house. Moments later, the vehicle with the wrecking ball had started up and inched closer to the side of the home that had been damaged the worst. The bulldozer had started too and then another vehicle and everything got so fucking loud as the machines stirred up the debri. It had made Derek’s head spin, made his heartbeat accelerate and then the dust and smells floated into his nostrils and the agony was nearly unbearable. It seemed like every emotion that a person could ever feel in a lifetime was racing around inside him all at once.

“I’m here,” Stiles had said and Derek didn’t know how he had heard the words over everything else going on, but he had and then all he smelled was Stiles’ scent and it washed everything away. The next second, he had felt Stiles’ hands on one of his, pulling his fingers, his claws, from where they were embedded into his palms.

“No.” He’d jerked his hand away, because he'd felt too dangerous for Stiles to touch. The wrecking ball had begun to swing, building momentum as the vehicle got closer and closer to the roof.

“Yes,” Stiles had said, his voice hard and demanding. He'd stood in front of Derek, but still slightly to the side. He'd grabbed Derek’s clawed hand with one of his own, twined their fingers together and with the other wiped away Derek’s tears. He'd stared at Derek, tears and a reflection of Derek’s red gaze in his glassy eyes. “I’m here. We’re pack. We’re the Hale pack, Derek.”

Derek had fallen toward Stiles, fallen into his embrace and fallen for him all in the same moment that the wrecking ball had hit the house for the first time. The sound of the impact had drowned out his sobs, to everyone but Stiles. Stiles had held him so tight, their joined hands pressed between their chests, his arm circling Derek’s back, palm rubbing along the base of his spine. Derek had cried almost until the house was flattened, wept until his claws retracted, until he understood the words Stiles had been saying to him and truly understood their meaning. As he had composed himself, tearing off his shirt and wiping his sweaty, teary face off with it, Stiles had kept contact with him, his hand sizzling hot with energy on Derek’s bare hip.

When the plume of dust had disappeared and the only evidence of the fire were the bits of charred wood Derek saw amongst the other debris, the head foreman had gotten out of the bulldozer and given Derek two thumbs up. Derek had let out a breath, a half-sob, in response. Stiles had placed his head on his shoulder and said, “You need to pick a different anchor. You don’t have to tell anyone that you have, or what it is, but this...” Stiles had made a sweeping gesture toward the rubble before them. “This was the end of you being angry with yourself for what you believe you caused. The only thing you caused that has anything to do with that house being torn down, is this construction operation you have going on here. That’s it.”

“I can’t just…” Derek had been about to protest the idea of changing his anchor when Stiles had turned to look at him, giving him a tiny grin. That smile had stopped his words completely and Derek remembered his claws retracting, remembered coming back from the partial beta shift and why exactly he had. It hadn’t just been because he was releasing the pain and anger he felt, it had been because he'd been anchored physically by Stiles.

“I know you’ll never stop feeling guilty,” Stiles had said. “It’d be stupid for me to think you ever could, no matter how unwarranted your guilt is, it’s so deep I don’t think anything could ever lift it from you. But the anger toward yourself, you have to let it go, Derek. I know you’re strong enough to do that.”

Derek had only had one response to that because as Stiles was talking, he was anchoring himself to him. “Okay.”

“Good.” Stiles had stayed the whole day with him there at the site until the construction workers went home. They never spoke of that day and Stiles never asked him what his anchor was, but when Derek had shifted into his full wolf form for the first time a few days later, the delighted smile Stiles had given him had made Derek certain that though it was risky using a person as an anchor, it had been the right decision.

Even after he'd begun the struggle to stay away from Stiles, to not claim him as his mate, Derek had not once regretted having Stiles as his anchor. He knew that most werewolves went mad if they had proven who their mate was and could not claim them. He’d heard stories of some betas having to be dosed with wolfsbane or chained and electrocuted to keep them from going after their mate if there was a reason they could not claim them within days. Derek attributed most of his control to having the children in his home; when they were around, it was drastically easier to be within touching distance of Stiles. In a way, he’d anchored himself to them too. Stiles being his true anchor was something Derek was certain was the major cause for him being able to go as long as he had without claiming him. As pertinent as it was to his wolf to make Stiles his, it was equally as important to care for him, to make him happy and to not hurt him. The constant back and forth surges of emotion were excruciating to deal with at times, but he’d done it. For better or for worse, Stiles was his anchor and he didn’t regret allowing his wolf to have that tie to him.

Until now.

There wasn’t a single time in Derek’s life that he had felt as out of control as he did right then. Stiles’ question had forced him to shift, forced him to speak and forced his primal side to come raging to the surface. As torturous as it had been for him to keep himself away from Stiles, to abstain from claiming him, he’d always managed to do so. Now, he wasn’t so sure that he could.

“Get out!” Derek roared again when Stiles didn’t move.

“I’m not leaving!” Stiles said. “Not until you make me understand how this happened. Not until you explain why this is what has you running away from me all the time.” Stiles bravely stepped closer to him.

Derek flipped backward to the other side of his bed and crouched low, his claws gripping into the mattress. “Not now, Stiles.” He felt his mouth filling with saliva, watering because Stiles had, unknowingly, let his wolf loose and the blockade he’d constructed to help him deal with Stiles’ sweet scent had disintegrated completely. “I can’t,” he all but snarled, digging his claws even deeper into the mattress, fighting the impossibly strong urge to claim the stupid idiot he had fallen in love with.

“This is why you don’t touch me anymore? This is why you can’t stand to be in the same room as me? Because you don’t want this? You don’t want me to be your mate?”

“You just _lost_ your wife!” Derek growled and launched back over the bed. He backed him up against the door, causing Stiles to cry out as his head hit the wood, hard. Derek leaned his head down and took a long sniff against Stiles’ neck and registered the tang of pain. Knowing he'd hurt Stiles was enough of a temporary deterrent and he pushed himself away from him.

Stiles glared at Derek with a dark intense expression. “I’m not that fragile! I can deal with this.”

“You’re grieving, you’re grieving for your wife and I…”

“She wasn’t my mate,” Stiles said. “You…”

“Don’t say it!” Derek cut him off, fisting his hands through his hair. “If you say it, Stiles… Stiles I can’t…”

“What?” Stiles asked, looking like he was about to cry. “What can’t you do?”

Derek backed away into the furthest corner of the room and dug his claws into his palms, hoping the physical pain would dampen his yearning. “If you say it,” Derek said. “There’s no going back. I can’t… I can’t do this right now. You just fucking ripped the bandage off and now you’re all… you’re everything to my wolf, all right?”

“Why do you need a bandage in the first place? Am I that repulsive to you?” Stiles asked, voice wavering. “Do you not want to be with me, so much that you think you’re better off hurting yourself like that? Is this you going back to a default of martyrdom? I don’t need that from you, Derek. I just need you!”

“If you don’t stop now,” Derek said, blood seeping from his palms onto the floor. “If you don’t go away and let me regain control, I will fuck you.”

“Wh…. Wh… What did you say?”

Derek’s nostrils flared as arousal mixed with fear wafted off Stiles. “I will fuck you and it will hurt because I cannot take my time right now. I can’t control myself, Stiles! If you don’t leave, if you don’t give me time to get myself under control without you in the same fucking room, I will throw you down on the fucking bed and rut into you without a care about the damage I'd do to you!”

“You wouldn't do that,” Stiles said, sounding scared yet also sure.

“I will!” Derek closed his eyes. “Go before I can’t stop myself. Please?” He could hear Stiles walking closer to him, the smell of him surrounding him, beckoning him like nothing else. Derek put his fingers over his nose and clamped it shut, but his open mouth took in his scent too and his taste buds worked overtime to make up for the scents he blocked off.

“You can and will stop yourself because you know that I don’t want it like that,” Stiles spoke firmly, his breath smoothing across Derek’s hand and mouth. “Look at me, Derek.”

The command was given in a tone that Derek couldn’t ignore and he opened his eyes to see that Stiles was just as close as he’d felt. They were standing so close and Derek felt like he was drowning. “Please.”

“You can control yourself,” Stiles said and touched his hand. “You can control yourself and then you’re going to explain to me why you don’t want me as your mate.”

Derek pushed him backward and Stiles landed on the bed, legs spread out, looking like he was blatantly inviting Derek to ravish him. Derek gripped the inside of his own thighs, cutting into the sensitive nerves hidden there, trying yet again to let the pain ground him. “Leave!”

Stiles flailed for a moment before pushing himself upright. “Use your anchor, Derek. Find your damn anchor!”

“I’m looking at him,” Derek growled. “It’s not doing any good!”

Stiles’ color drained from his face, he slowly stood up from the bed and walked closer to him. “What did you say?”

Derek hadn’t ever planned on telling him, not even if the day came that they became mates, because it was a lot to put on anyone, especially a human. He’d fucked up and now there was no going back. “You are my anchor, Stiles.”

“Then use me,” Stiles pleaded. He grabbed Derek’s hands, his fingers on top of Derek’s, the pads rubbing up and down his knuckles. “Use me. If you’ve placed such trust and faith in me that I can be your anchor, then I trust that you won’t hurt me. That you can come back to me, you can control your wolf and we can have a conversation about this.”

“You can’t say that to me and expect it to just happen,” Derek groaned. Stiles’ words were both helpful and hurtful. With every stroke of Stiles’ fingers against his, he felt his wolf settle.

Stiles cocked his head to the side and took a step back. “I’m sorry.”

Derek retracted his claws and took Stiles’ hands. “It was helping,” he begrudgingly admitted.

Stiles smiled. “That’s because I’m awesome.”

Derek spoke between clenched teeth, “I can’t believe you’re making a joke right now.”

“I can’t believe you think that at this point I’m going to believe you also don’t think it’s true. Now close your eyes and concentrate on relaxing Wolfie, because I am awesome.”

“Stiles,” Derek warned and closed his eyes.

Stiles chuckled softly. “Or you can go back to using anger, whatever works.”

“Just be quiet for a minute.” Derek focused on the feeling of Stiles’ skin, listening to his heart and narrowed in on the scent they shared, pack. He couldn’t believe how fast he was relaxing. He hadn’t felt this grounded since before Thanksgiving. Yes, the immediate touch was jarring, stirred his wolf and made him howl, but if he concentrated and let his mind drift away from that, he could grasp onto the content feeling Stiles seemed to be pushing into his body. “You don’t even practice, yet you have magic in you,” Derek commented softly.

“This isn’t magic, its intent,” Stiles said.

Derek let out a deep breath as his anchor properly settled over him like a warm security blanket. Anchors didn’t have to be heavy, hard jarring things that didn’t budge once they plummeted with your wolf tied to them. They could be soft, pliant, warm, familiar and steady.

“Are you ready to talk?” Stiles asked, voice near a whisper.

Derek opened his eyes and yawned. The last thing he wanted to do was to talk. He felt better than he had in months, he might actually be able to sleep a whole night without waking up with the desperate urge to jack off and find release because he claimed Stiles in every dream he’d had since Thanksgiving.

“Let’s lay down,” Stiles suggested and dropped Derek’s hands.

“On the bed?” Derek asked fearfully.

Stiles nodded. “It’s been a really long day and I’ve had at least two conversations that have had me in tears, if that’s going to happen again then I want to be comfortable. Plus, it’s what your wolf needs, to be close to me, even if it's not what you want.”

“We are the same,” Derek said adamantly. “You know I may sometimes talk like its separate from me, but it really isn’t. I’ve known nothing but who I am, who I’ve always been, there are just emotions and needs that I equate more with the primal side of me.”

Stiles rolled his eyes dramatically. “You really aren’t telling me anything I don’t know. I do know that because you need an anchor to control that side, to stay more human-like, then it stands to reason that whether or not you’ve known nothing else, you still are aware that those emotions and needs are less rational and different from what your conscious mind wants.”

Stiles was truly the most frustrating person Derek had ever known. “I don’t have multiple personalities,” he said. 

“No, just multiple needs that are often on completely different spectrums,” Stiles said with finality. He pulled his tank top off and deliberately dropped it on the floor. “Are you going to ravage my body if I get down to my boxers?”

Derek’s dick stirred as he looked at Stiles and he had to make himself look away. “I think the term you’re looking for is ravish, not ravage.”

“No,” Stiles said and slipped out of his shorts. “Earlier, you were basically talking about destroying me, and ravage is sort of synonymous with that.”

Derek crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you understand that whether or not I’m calm right now, you being nearly naked in my bed will likely not help me stay relaxed?”

“It will if you get stripped down too and we’re skin to skin,” Stiles said simply. He pushed the comforter down and got under it. “I’ve heard so many wolves in our pack talk about cuddling and how few things calm them like cuddling does. Cora said that when she was pregnant and couldn’t get in a comfortable position, as long as Isaac laid behind her, skin to skin, she’d settle and eventually drift off to sleep.”

“Okay, so you just had to bring my sister’s sex life into this, why?” Derek growled.

“I didn’t say anything about sex,” Stiles clarified. “If that’s how you interpreted it…”

“Shut up, Stiles,” Derek said and gave in and took off his pajama pants, but kept the shirt on. He did not meet Stiles eyes and completely ignored the gaze he felt burning his skin. When he got into the bed, he stayed as far away from Stiles as he could.

“That’s really not going to do you any good, Derek. Come closer.”

“What doesn’t do me any good is you lying there acting like this is fucking normal,” Derek barked out.

Stiles ducked his head a little and murmured, “You’re not the only one who's freaked out right now.”

“It’s okay. I’m okay. I’m not freaked out.” Really he wasn’t. Derek wasn’t sure why he’d been so harsh when he didn’t feel the antagonist pull of sexual arousal from within. “I’m just a little…”

“Annoyed that I’m in your bed?” Stiles asked, turning on his side to face Derek. “You know what I remember the most from just after Sophia died?”

“What?”

“Slide closer and I’ll tell you.”

Derek moved. Barely. He knew that Stiles needed to talk about Sophia sometimes, but even while she’d been alive, it had been hard to hear Stiles talk about her. Now, it was worse for two different reasons. Firstly, though he wanted Stiles as his mate, he’d still trade it all to know that Stiles and the kids didn’t have to lose Sophia. Seeing Stiles hurt in any way at all hurt Derek, but the pain of a grief he couldn’t make better for him was much worse, and he felt Stiles’ aches and pains as if they were his own. Secondly, now that he knew for certain Stiles was his, he couldn’t stand being reminded of the fact that his mate had belonged to and shared a life with a person who wasn’t him and still loved her. It didn’t make a lot of sense, especially because Derek loved the kids as though they were his own cubs.

“At least let me get within arms-reach of you so that if this conversation makes you get all weird, you can be anchored by not just my fantastic presence, but also my touch.”

“Okay, okay,” Derek agreed. He slid closer to Stiles until their knees met and their shins brushed softly against one another. “You were saying?”

“Right,” Stiles said and swallowed audibly. “The thing I remember the most in the days and weeks after Sophia’s death is you lying there with me in the guest bed at my Dad’s house. Do you remember that?”

“Of course.”

Stiles nodded. “You didn’t care if I hadn’t showered in days, didn’t care if I had snot all over my clothes or that I’d thrown up. You always held me. You didn’t let go until I was asleep and you didn’t stop coming over and doing that for me until I went back home. That was something that must have been so hard on you, because I couldn’t anchor your wolf at all then. I don’t remember much other than you holding me; my dad said I was really out of it a lot. If it weren’t for the pack taking the kids I could’ve really fucked them up with some of the shit he told me I had said. There’s another time, I don’t completely recall what happened, but I know it was bad and it was when you came over to my house on Thanksgiving.” Stiles brought his hand up and placed it on Derek’s shoulder. “When did you find out I was your mate?”

Derek closed his eyes. “Thanksgiving.”

“Okay, I want to know more about that later, but for now, I want you to explain everything to me. To start, I want you to be honest and tell me why you wish I wasn’t your mate. What do you have against me?”

“It's not for any reason against you, Stiles,” Derek huffed and opened his eyes. He couldn’t help himself at this point, he had to touch Stiles’ milky white skin. He moved his hand up from Stiles’ wrist to his bicep and drew an invisible triskelion pattern using the spattering of freckles as start and end points.

“It sure feels like it is,” Stiles told him, sighing.

“Sophia was your mate. How could I ever say…”

“She wasn’t my mate,” Stiles interrupted, eyes narrowed on Derek’s.

“I’ve never heard of it happening before, but when she died it must have allowed for us to…”

“Her death didn’t allow anything,” Stiles interrupted, speaking the words slowly and deliberately.

“What?”

“She wasn’t ever my mate,” Stiles said. “She lied to me. I never knew about the mating rituals. We never did them and she never told me much about them.”

“You’re kidding me, right?” Derek asked. “You fucking research everything! She was a Rosewood! She wouldn’t have chosen you if you weren’t her mate!”

“She didn’t choose me,” Stiles said. “I don’t… I don’t know for sure why she lied to me, Derek. The only reason I can come up with that can explain why she did is because she…”

“Loved you,” Derek cut in.

“No.” Stiles sat up, and hugged his legs to his chest. “I know she loved me in her own way. I do know that. I also know how badly she wanted to get away from the Rosewood pack with their traditions, restrictions and power. She said they singled her out and oppressed her in ways that they didn’t with her cousins and siblings. She wanted to go to some college in Montana, but they wouldn’t let her and refused to give her a reason. Shortly after we began dating she told me that if it weren’t for meeting me, and her mother getting sick, she would’ve cut ties with them and ran away.”

“Where would she have gone without their blessing?” Derek asked. “The Rosewoods have connections in almost every state, no pack would’ve taken her in and risked inciting a pack war with the Rosewoods.”

“College wasn’t the only reason she wanted to go to Montana, her mother’s pack was there too. She planned to ask them to take her in, she’d only met her grandparents and aunt once, when she was little, but never since. Out of all the packs the Rosewoods had alliances with, her mother’s pack was the one that Sophia never visited. She said she felt a pull to go there, like how Cora found your cousin maybe. Or it could've been because that’s where her real mate was. I don’t know, I guess I’m just searching for any explanation at this point.”

“I don’t understand why you think this way, Stiles,” Derek said. “If Brogan couldn’t keep alliances with his brother’s in-laws, nobody would respect him. He’s powerful, but he has more alliances than any other werewolf pack in the world and they’re known to be peaceful and giving. That makes me think that he would’ve had no problem with her wanting to visit her family or go to a college where they were.”

“No, he shouldn’t have had an issue with it, but I know for a fact that he did. Both Wyatt and Henry mentioned it a few times and Sophia tried to act like it no longer bothered her, but I know it did. Brogan wouldn’t give her the freedom of that choice and neither did her parents. Brogan told her that she wouldn’t be allowed to associate with their pack if she went to Montana against their wishes. She would be cutting ties with Rosewood pack completely. Marrying me and joining our pack was an easier option than Sophia cutting ties with her mother. The Hales were a respected pack, still close to home and they could still keep an eye on her. I didn’t think of it like that then, but I know it now. She married me and made everyone believe that I was her mate, because it was the best option that would allow her to keep in contact with her born pack and still get away from Sacramento.”

“She wouldn’t have done that to you,” Derek insisted. “She was a Rosewood.”

“What does that matter?” Stiles asked him.

“They always know their mates,” Derek said. “She would’ve been free to find hers. Brogan’s arrogant, but if she felt a pull to find her mate, they would’ve let her go find him.”

“Do you know that for certain?” Stiles asked. “She told me stories about her family and some were honestly really terrible. I don’t care if they’re a huge respected pack, so was your mother’s pack and they didn’t engage in a lot of the behavior I know that the Rosewoods have.”

“I remember Sophia telling me about some of the shittier things too,” Derek admitted. “But she was lucky to have so many people looking out for her future. I think she just really loved you and wanted to be with you. I could sense that she did, we all did.”

“Or she loved what I could be for her and loved that I was willing to change and become it,” Stiles said in a bitter tone. “Now answer me, Derek. Why did you not want to tell me about us being mates? Why do you hate the idea so much?”

Derek took Stiles’ hand and placed it over his heart so that he could feel the rhythm and know that what he was about to say was the absolute truth. “I thought I just answered you. I couldn’t tell you because you were grieving when I first realized it, and you’re still mourning her, even if you’re angry at her right now. I don’t want to put you under any more stress than you already are. I don’t want you to feel like you have to be mine, when you’re still hers.”

“I’m not still hers,” Stiles said. “I haven’t been since she died and maybe…”

“What?” Derek prompted when he saw Stiles’ bite his lips, halting whatever else he was going to say.

“Wait,” Stiles looked at him with wide eyes. “Are you telling me that you, as in _you, you_ want _me_ as your mate? That it isn’t just your instincts, your wolf, encouraging it?”

“Of course it's not,” Derek said. “I am my wolf. If it were only my instincts that wanted you, I would have gone back to your house that night and claimed you as soon as I saw that the marks you left on me hadn’t healed. I wouldn’t have cared that you were crying for her, wouldn’t have cared if you told me to stop, I would’ve taken you anyway if my base instincts weren’t overpowered by my humanity and the feelings I have for you.”

Stiles’ mouth hung open for a moment before he asked, “How long have you had feelings for me?”

“For a very, very, long time,” Derek admitted. There was no use in hiding anything now. Even if Stiles wasn’t ready to be with him, to let Derek claim him and claim Derek in return, he still deserved to know the truth of how Derek felt and he lacked the will to keep it to himself any longer.

“That’s very vague,” Stiles said snarkily. “Can’t you be more specific?”

Derek sighed in resignation. “I always found you endearing,” he admitted, “even when you pissed me off. That grew into me being sexually attracted to you, but I wouldn’t let myself ever dwell on it because you were still just a teenager.”

“Okay, you were attracted to me? That’s it? No other feelings?” Stiles pressed.

“None that I would admit to myself were there and I didn’t, not for a while. But then one day, I really fell for you and I…” Derek scooted even closer to Stiles and draped his arm over his waist, the fronts of their bodies completely touching. “I couldn’t stop it. It was the day of the demolition of the old house; that’s when I fell in love with you.”

Stiles sucked in a gasp. “In love with me?” he squeaked out.

Derek nodded. He wasn’t getting any emotions coming from Stiles except disbelief and surprise, which wasn’t very encouraging, but he knew he had to continue. “Yes, I may have been falling all the time we’ve known one another. I actually saw you some in town when we were young and felt a pull toward you, but I didn’t remember that for a while after we met. Then we were dealing with a bunch of crazy shit and life got so complicated I could hardly focus on anything and suppressed any feelings I had toward you.”

“But what changed?” Stiles asked, voice cracking. “Why did you finally accept it?”

“When you pulled up in your Jeep, I got this crazy feeling like I was being pushed toward you. I wanted so badly to kiss you when you came to stand beside me, when you didn’t listen like the rest of the pack had, when you came anyway and supported me when I was too scared to admit that I needed someone to lean on. I knew it then; I knew that I’d fallen in love with you and when you held me I felt our connection strengthen, only I wasn’t entirely sure that it was because we could be mates. At the same time, I felt my anchor change and it felt so right that it was you. I thought the instinctual pull and feelings I had for you, were heightened because you were my anchor.”

“So you didn’t think that connection was because we are mates?” Stiles asked for clarification.

“Right.”

“Why didn’t you try something then? You had to have known that I was attracted to you.” Stiles said. “Don’t pull the age card, just tell me the truth.”

“But your age was a big deal,” Derek insisted. “You had your whole life ahead of you. You wanted to go to a University that was far away from home.”

“It was a couple of hours away,” Stiles scoffed.

“No, you and Lydia were planning to go to Colombia in New York until Jackson received a late acceptance into NYU. You said that you didn’t want to be the third wheel, so instead you went off to college all by yourself. It was only a couple of weeks before school started that you let everyone know about changing schools. You were so terrified about going alone, of leaving your dad, and I wasn’t going to make it worse by confessing my feelings to you.”

“And then I met Sophia,” Stiles said and dropped onto his back. He put his hands on his face and mumbled, “I’m such an asshole. How many times did I call you and fucking giggle about her?”

“It was okay,” Derek said.

Stiles tilted his head and gave him a look of disbelief.

“All right, it wasn’t okay, but it had to be. As soon as you told me her last name, I knew that I had to be okay with it. I wanted you to be happy and you were.”

Stiles dropped his hands and turned back onto his side to look at Derek. “I’m sorry.”

Derek laughed dryly. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

“I brought her into this pack,” Stiles said. “You had to see me, see _us_ together all the time. I talked to you about our sex life, Derek!”

“I’d buried it deep by then,” Derek said gruffly. “It was always there, like a little vibration inside of me, but it was underneath so many other feelings, it got easier to deal with, especially after Danika was born. If I didn’t hide it all, if I didn’t allow myself to be happy for you, the alternative would’ve been you joining the Rosewood pack. It wasn’t like I was pining over you to the degree that I was consciously jealous of Sophia. I loved her in the same way that I love all of my betas. I also loved that she made you happy and gave you a family. Our relationship was good, Stiles. I didn’t ever wish that she wasn’t in the pack.”

“But now that you know that I wasn’t her mate?” Stiles asked. “I mean, now that you know she fooled me, used me…”

“I don’t feel differently about her,” Derek said. “Maybe it’s my instincts still mourning her, grieving for the lost connection, or maybe it’s simply because if it weren’t for her, Danika, Arek and Klaudia wouldn’t exist.”

“I didn’t think I’d ever be a father of three this early in my life,” Stiles said. “I love them, they’re my world, but now that level of disbelief is worse. I’m not just a father, I’m a single father.”

Derek took Stiles hand again and squeezed it. “When you’re ready, if you want this, you don’t have to be. You know that I love them as if they were my own.”

“I know you do,” Stiles admitted, tears filling his eyes. “This is all just so much to take in. The truth is, I haven’t been a single father, not for a while. You’ve done so much for them and for me. You always have.”

“It's not only because I love you,” Derek said.

Stiles sucked in a sharp breath and then let out a reedy laugh. “You can’t just say that to me like that.”

Derek jerked back. “I’m sorry, I… I’m not meaning…”

“No,” Stiles reached for him and put his hand on Derek’s hip. “That’s not what I meant. It’s an expression to sort of express surprise and shock.”

Derek relaxed. “Okay.”

“Derek,” Stiles asked, yawning his name.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think I’m ready, not for everything, but I don’t want to hurt you anymore. I want to soothe your wounds and I don’t want you to torture yourself any longer. I just need time. I hate asking you to give me that, but I need time. There are so many things I have to process.”

“That’s all right,” Derek said. “As long as you’re telling me that there will come a day…”

“There will be soon,” Stiles said emphatically. He gazed into Derek’s eyes as he leaned close, closing them only when their lips met.

Derek withdrew from the kiss after just a moment because he didn’t want to do anything that would shatter his control. “I can wait for you.”

Stiles worried his bottom lip and asked, “You’re not upset that I’m going to make you wait?”

Derek sighed and pulled Stiles close and hugged him. “No. I’ve had a lot of practice at waiting and this time I know I’m going to get to be with you.”

“You’re sure?” Stiles asked. “I don’t want you hurting, Derek.”

Derek moved so he rested on his back and moved Stiles so that his head rested over his heart. “I’m sure, and the physical pain isn’t nearly as bad now that I’m not so stressed out. Now go to sleep. It’s been a big day and I know you’re exhausted.” He carded his fingers through Stiles’ thick hair and felt himself relaxing to the sound of Stiles’ even heartbeat. Derek still wasn’t sure how Stiles felt about him, he hadn’t rejected him, had said he’d been attracted to him, but he hadn’t said anything about love. Derek knew that some mates grew to love one another after they mated, but he hoped that wouldn’t be the case for them. It was why he’d wanted to wait as long as possible for Stiles to find out, for Stiles to realize his feelings for himself, but now that probably wouldn’t happen. Derek could wait to be with Stiles, but he wasn’t too sure he could wait for Stiles to love him with the same intensity that he felt for Stiles.

To Be Continued in Chapter Ten


	11. Chapter Ten: "Relations"

**Connected  
Chapter Ten: “Relations”**

_Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of withering, of tarnishing_ ~Anaïz Nin

Stiles was jerked out of his sleep by the sound of his phone ringing. He surged upward in the bed, feeling pissed that someone dared to call him before his children woke him. The thought came as fast as it went, because he wasn’t in his room and Danika and Arek weren’t sleeping next to him. He was in Derek’s room. He turned to look beside him, where Derek had curled up with him last night, but he was gone. Stiles was relieved that it hadn’t been a fucked up dream and was just about to relive each moment once again, when his attention landed back on the phone. He definitely hadn’t taken it out of the pocket of his shorts, so Derek must’ve placed it on the nightstand.

“Holy shit,” he whispered as the phone told him it was nearly eleven o’clock. The kids! He hopped out of the bed and started for the bedroom door when he felt the phone vibrate in his hand. He swiped the phone to answer it before it really had a chance to start ringing and immediately began rambling, “Henry, I can’t talk right now. I know I missed breakfast, but I’ll make it up to you. I slept in and I have no idea where the kids…”

“Derek said he left you a note,” Henry interrupted loudly.

Stiles’ bare feet skidded on the wood floor and he clutched his chest over his heart. “Oh shit! Do you know…” Stiles had almost asked if Henry knew where Derek had placed it, but that was ridiculous. Derek wouldn’t have told Henry that Stiles was in his bedroom. Stiles turned on his heel and saw a piece of paper on the nightstand, which had probably been lying right under his phone. “Okay, okay. He did, I see it.”

Henry laughed. “Dude, your heartbeat is so erratic right now I’m beginning to wonder if I should call you an ambulance.”

Stiles picked up the note and sat back down on the bed. “No. No, I’m good.”

_Stiles,_

_I tried to wake you when the kids got up, but you wouldn’t budge. I think you really need your sleep and I hope you've got enough by the time you wake up. Henry is supposed to call at eleven to reschedule for lunch. Your dad and Melissa have the kids and asked to take them overnight. I told him you’d call when you got up. Hope you got a good rest._

_See you tonight,  
Derek_

“Earth to Stiles?” Henry asked in a sing-song tone.

“Huh?”

“Oh man,” Henry said, laughing. “You’re still all flighty when you first wake up?”

“What? No!” Stiles protested. “In case you forgot, I have ADHD and I was reading the note from Derek.”

“So, am I taking you to lunch then?”

“You’re in my pack’s territory,” Stiles said. “It’s customary for me and the pack to provide meals for you.”

“Such a good Second,” Henry said, his tone joking, but Stiles knew he meant it. “You’re better at werewolf traditions and protocol than I am and I’ve been being groomed to be the next Rosewood Second since birth.”

Stiles let out a bark of hysterical laughter, not because of the teasing, but because he was obviously the absolute worst at werewolf traditions. “At least you know that your Alpha will be Wyatt. You know he’ll go easy on you.”

Henry growled. “You’re an asshole.”

Stiles laughed and ran a hand through his hair. “What? You don’t actually think he's as strict as your dad and uncle, do you?”

“That’s the problem,” Hayden said. “He’s not, so he’s going to try to be and he’ll make sure that I stay in line.”

“Speaking of Wyatt, he’s coming to lunch too, right?” Stiles asked.

“Why?” Henry asked. “Your heart is racing again, by the way.”

“Freaking werewolves,” Stiles groaned and flopped backwards onto the bed. “There are some things I need to talk to you both about.” He doubted he’d be able to do much eating. His stomach was already in knots and it was unlikely that he’d be able to keep anything down.

“He ended up having breakfast with Peter and Brianna,” Henry said. “Derek extended the invite to me as well, but I decided to take advantage of the Whittemore’s pool and maid instead.”

“You made Alice cook you breakfast?” Stiles scoffed, laughing. “You realize that she’s not a maid. She’s the freaking housekeeper.”

“She’s also hot,” Henry told him. “She flirted, I flirted, she asked if she could make me an omelet and I didn’t refuse.”

“Do not fuck their housekeeper,” Stiles warned. “Lydia and Jackson will kill you and you’ll never be allowed to stay there again!”

“Like I would do that,” Henry said deviously. “Seriously though, what’s going on?”

“So much,” Stiles admitted. “But I’ll wait until lunch to tell you.”

“You’ll have to pick us both up,” Henry told him. “Dad and Uncle Brogan refused to let us have the car even though Melissa’s SUV could comfortably fit all of them.”

“Alphas never like it when other werewolves drive them; it hands over too much control. Letting a human from another pack drive them around…” Stiles scoffed at the idea and then laughed. “Did you guys actually ask for the car?”

“Yeah.”

“And Brogan didn’t rip your throat out?”

“I’m talking to you, aren’t I? Besides you’ve driven us both around hundreds of times and we sort of figured you would today as well.”

“That’s different,” Stiles said. “I didn’t know about that particular bit of werewolf protocol back then and you and Wyatt didn’t give two shits about it. Brogan’s probably waiting until you get back home to discipline you,” Stiles said, serious. “The suggestion is seen as an insult to their superior senses and skills.”

“I think I should learn how to be an Alpha’s Second from you, obviously all the lessons I’ve been taught over the years haven’t stuck. Ten bucks Wyatt will still want me to drive him everywhere when he becomes the Alpha,” Henry said. “He’ll fucking make me his official chauffeur.”

“Probably,” Stiles agreed. “The lazy ass.” He stood up from the bed and gathered his discarded clothing. “I’m going to get ready. I’ll be there in an hour.”

“Okay, I’ll call Wyatt. See you soon.”

“Don’t fuck Alice,” Stiles warned and ended the call. He shot Derek a text, simply saying thank you and then texted his father to tell him he’d call after he was out of the shower, but that they could keep the children overnight.

  
~*~

Stiles had driven the two werewolves through a fast food drive-thru and spent a hefty sum of money on their ridiculously large orders. He ordered himself a coffee and a small curly fry, but doubted he’d touch either. Stiles wanted to talk to his friends, but he didn’t want an audience, so he drove out to the preserve and parked near a scenic overlook that had a picnic table chained to a large tree.

Stiles had to stop Wyatt from breaking the chain, just because he could, and reminded him that the Hale’s had helped pay for a lot of the preserve’s upkeep and park equipment. He came to this place a lot when he needed to think and though he usually stayed in his vehicle, he would hate to see that someone had discovered the broken chain and managed to steal the table.

“You’re in a pissy mood,” Wyatt commented, glaring at Stiles as he pulled his food out of the fast food bag. “I would’ve thought that since you slept in, you’d be a lot less cranky.”

“I’m not in a pissy mood and I’m not cranky,” Stiles said. “I'm just…”

“Dude, he’s kidding,” Henry told him and glared at Wyatt. “Right?”

Wyatt sighed, “Yeah. Sorry. So, what do you want to talk to us about?”

“First I need you to promise me that you will not share this with anyone.”

Henry winced. “Is it something that could hurt either pack?”

“No,” Stiles told him but then backtracked, “not physically. I don’t know, some of your pack and mine might be upset by it.”

Wyatt bit into his sandwich and asked around a mouthful of food, “Whaf if it?”

Henry smacked the back of Wyatt’s head. “Could you try to show some tact? I just don’t get you, man. How in the fuck do you even attract girls?”

“Shut up,” Wyatt said and stuck his tongue out.

“You shut up,” Henry bickered.

“You,” Wyatt said and flashed his golden eyes.

“I’m beginning to think that neither one of you are mature enough to have this conversation with me,” Stiles said, an edge to his voice.

Wyatt and Henry looked back at Stiles and at the same time said, “Sorry.”

“Please,” Stiles said, folding his sweaty hands together. “I need you to promise me. What I’m about to tell you and ask you to tell me in return; I need the truth and I need you to keep what I say to yourselves.”

“Okay,” Wyatt agreed.

“I promise,” Henry said and dramatically made a cross over his heart with his finger.

“Actually, you may already know what I’m about to say,” Stiles said, looking back and forth between Wyatt and Henry. “Sophia was not my mate.”

Henry’s eyes clouded with hurt. “Why would you say that, Stiles?”

Wyatt bit his lip and groaned, “I think I may know why.”

“What?” Stiles and Henry asked together.

“Look, it’s not like I thought you guys weren’t, not until this very moment and that’s only because of something I found a couple of days ago.”

“You found something that told you Sophia wasn’t Stiles’ mate days ago and didn’t immediately tell either one of us?” Henry asked, his fangs dropping and his posture tensing.

“I planned to discuss it with boy of you when we came down here and until Stiles’ revelation I wasn’t sure it pertained to his and Sophia’s mate status and I wasn’t going to just call him up and tell him,” Wyatt defended himself. “What I found, it’s not going to be easy for either of you to hear.”

“Just get to the point,” Henry said, calming down.

“I found some files the other day that alluded to something and when I reflected on things that Sophia said she felt in the past, it makes sense. I was updating Dad’s paperwork system by making copies and transferring them to the computer. Honestly, the last thing I want to do is hurt either of you.” Wyatt reached across the table and held Stiles’ hand. “Before you and Sophia were married, the four of us were sort of our own pack. I know we joked about the Mythology Club being like our own geeky co-ed fraternity, but it was true. We’re still pack in the same way that people remain pack to the one they’re born into even after they’ve left it.”

“You are such a fucking sap,” Henry moaned, punching Wyatt’s shoulder. “Stiles, before he drops whatever fucking bomb he has, will you tell me why you think that my sister wasn’t your mate?”

Stiles scrubbed his hands over his face and could feel a headache building at the base of his skull. The heat wasn’t too bad under the thick canopy of the forest, but the stress he felt was making him sweat and when he got too warm he usually developed a migraine. “This is going to be really hard,” he said at last, dropping his hands. “I don’t want you to hate me.”

“Why would I hate you?” Henry asked softly. “I know you loved Soph, you took such good care of her and were the perfect mate for her.”

Stiles bit his lip to stop from wincing at the remark because Henry really had no idea how true that was and how pathetic Stiles felt because of it. He would have to tread carefully and only tell them the important parts while desperately reigning in the bitterness and betrayal he felt. Henry and Wyatt had been closer to Sophia than anyone else in the Rosewood pack. They’d been the ones who called, texted or emailed weekly and came to every one of Sophia and his events that weren’t restricted to the Hale pack only.

“Stiles,” Henry whined a little, obviously feeling Stiles’ upset. “You can tell us.”

Stiles gathered his courage and spoke, “Last night I learned about the mating ritual, not a specific pack’s traditions, but the one that every werewolf and their mate performs. Given that I just learned of this yesterday, you’d be right to guess that Sophia and I never did it. She never told me about it, she never directly asked me to be her mate and I never directly asked her if she were mine. She began calling me her mate and so I thought…” Stiles rubbed the tears prickling at his eyes. “I thought because she was a Rosewood, that I was. I never questioned it. They always know, right? But we never did any kind of ritual and I was…” Stiles looked away from them both. “I was a virgin until our wedding night. That was years after she first called me her mate.”

“Oh my god,” Henry gasped. “Stiles… I swear I didn’t know. She said that… This can’t be right. There has to be another explanation. Sophia wouldn’t have done that to you!”

“Henry, you know as well as I do that if you declare someone your mate, you intend for them to be your mate and if you have sex with them you cannot stop your instincts,” Wyatt said, frowning at Henry. “We took Sophia’s word for it as we do with every wolf of Wiyot blood. Once the words are spoken to our mate, we cannot stop ourselves from completing the ritual, not for long. The longest I’ve ever heard of any mates being separated before the claiming was two weeks and it was an Alpha and he had to be sedated. No beta can stand the pull, there’s been some that have been driven mad or had to be killed. Sophia’s hatred for our traditions wouldn’t have been enough to stop her from claiming him. Her wolf wouldn’t have been settled if her mate didn’t claim her in return.”

“Stiles,” Henry whispered, shaking his head back and forth. “I don’t understand. Sophia told me in private that you’d been together and you smelled…”

“We’d done other things, but very little and not often,” Stiles admitted. “So that’s why we smelled like one another.”

“She loved you,” Henry said. “She did. I don’t get why she’d have done this.”

“I know that she loved me in her way,” Stiles said and could no longer stop his tears. “I know she did. She loved you guys too, but you know how she felt about your pack. She wanted to get away so badly. I was… I was an easy way out I guess.”

“I don’t think that’s what happened,” Wyatt said. “The day she met you, before you two got together, she told me that she was drawn to you. She told me that she thought you could be her mate. She wasn’t lying.”

“But you’re supposed to know,” Stiles said. “Rosewoods always know for certain.”

“You’re right,” Wyatt said, softly. “Rosewoods do always know their mate.” He turned to Henry and asked, “Do you remember when we were little and all of us cousins were given the mate talk? We were ten, I think. Do you remember what happened with Sophia?”

Henry blinked back tears as he nodded. “She said that she didn’t believe in any of it and wouldn’t back down from your dad when he tried to make her be quiet and submit.”

“Holy shit,” Stiles whispered. He knew that his wife had been strong, but at ten years old she’d refused to submit to her Alpha? That was crazy!

Wyatt looked at Stiles. “Marcus got in between them and challenged my dad. They fought right there in the pack meeting space until they were both bloody and tired. The whole pack watched from the sidelines and it was only when Sophia threw herself in front of Marcus where he’d fallen, that my dad stopped the fight. Marcus and Sophia both bared their necks to him and neither was allowed to interact with the pack for a month. Even after all that, Sophia never changed her mind about what she thought of mates. She said numerous times that she didn’t understand the feeling we all said we had, that there was a tiny piece of us yearning for our mate, pulling us to find them. She was cynical, brash and didn’t believe a single thing that came out of my dad’s mouth when he talked about mates. She openly scoffed at him, at me, at Henry and anyone else who found their mate, or talked about wanting to find them. Until you.”

“But we weren’t mates,” Stiles said sadly.

“She thought you were,” Wyatt said, sounding sure. “She probably thought that there was something wrong with her for not feeling exactly the same as the rest of us did whenever we talked about the pull. Maybe she thought that she’d have the urge to perform the ritual once you were married and had sex.”

“She never wounded me. Not physically,” Stiles said and thought of his emotional wounds that had only started to heal. “She never left a mark.”

“Maybe she truly believed you were mates and just felt like her own free will gave her the power to rise above that,” Henry suggested. “If she didn’t feel it your wedding night, she may have thought of it as a triumph, given how adverse she was to traditions.”

“Maybe,” Wyatt said, but Stiles could tell he didn’t believe it. “What I do know is that there was a reason she felt pulled toward you and it wasn’t because she’d been smacked with a case of love at first sight. I think that the reason might have contributed to her feelings.”

“What was it?” Stiles demanded.

“Just as she felt pulled toward the Bennigan pack in Montana, she felt pulled toward you. Pulled toward the Hale pack.”

“Because it was easier if she told everyone I was her mate,” Stiles grit out between clenched teeth. “I was easy and if she married me, a human who didn’t know shit about mating rituals, which she did ask me about by the way, then she could declare to Brogan that she’d found her mate and he couldn’t deny her the right to leave the pack because of it. That’s all she wanted!”

“That's not what she wanted,” Wyatt said. “I mean yes, it may be what she wanted, to get away. But I don’t think she understood why she was feeling that way, Stiles.”

“What was it then?” Henry asked. “The urge to betray her family, her pack, her boyfriend and his pack?” The anger was unmistakable in his voice. 

“She was being drawn toward family,” Wyatt said, sighing.

Stiles huffed. “So that’s why she wanted to have children so quickly? She was drawn to me, drawn to Beacon Hills because, though she wasn’t really drawn to me specifically, she was drawn to the idea of our future children?”

Wyatt slapped his hand on the table and the wood splintered. “You’re not listening, Stiles. The need to procreate with you quickly was probably a part of it, something she didn’t even understand.”

“You keep saying she didn’t understand,” Stiles said, weakly. “But it sounds to me like she understood enough. She knew of the rituals, she knew that she wasn’t drawn to perform them with me.”

“What I’m saying,” Wyatt said, eyes flashing and teeth elongating, “is that she didn’t understand that the reason she felt like she needed to settle her family here was because they were already here.”

“What?” Henry and Stiles both questioned in a yell.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Henry demanded.

“It was in a file,” Wyatt said. “Your mother…”

“Please tell me you’re not about to talk shit about my mom,” Henry growled, grabbing Wyatt’s shirt in his fist. He was completely shifted into his beta form. “I swear to god, Wyatt I’ll…”

“Stop it!” Stiles yelled, sobbing now. He slammed his hands down on the table. “Please, just stop fighting.” He reached out to Henry and placed his hand on his shoulder. “Why would Wyatt lie to us, Henry? You’re best friends and your mother was his aunt. He loved her. Just please, please calm down and listen to the rest of what he has to say. I have to know, please, for the sake of my children! I have to know.”

Henry loosened his grip but remained shifted as he scooted to the end of the bench seat. “There’s proof?” he asked. “What you’re about to say, you can show me evidence, Wyatt?”

Wyatt reached behind him and took his phone out of his back pocket. “I took fucking pictures of the documents in case my father realized that I could find them and tried to dispose of them. He doesn’t know I made it to the pile they are in yet.”

Stiles leaned over the table and looked at the phone's screen. There, in the little window was a picture of a birth certificate. “What does it say?” he asked, breathing in and out slowly to stop the panic from rising again.

Wyatt zoomed in and pointed to the name written on the line above the word, ‘father’. “It says…”

“Colin Hale,” Henry whispered, now leaning close to look at the screen.

“Yes, his name is written out, but unlike your mom’s, his signature isn’t there, only an empty line where it's supposed to be.” Wyatt swiped to the next photo, which was another type of certificate. “It’s an adoption certificate. Both list Aunt Katherine as her mother, but this one shows Marcus as the adoptive father and custodial parent. It lists Jeffrey Lawson as the paternal father.” Wyatt zoomed in further. “It says he’s deceased.”

“Jeffrey Lawson!” Henry gasped. “There’s no way!”

“Who is he?” Stiles asked.

“He’s the only Omega my father ever killed,” Wyatt told him. “It was about a year before Sophia and I were born, our whole pack knows the story. Jeffrey was insane and he challenged my father as soon as he entered our territory. My father tried to get him psychological help, kept him sequestered from everyone in the celled off basement and tried his hardest to get him to submit. There were days that Jeffrey seemed sane, where my dad thought he was making progress, but wasn’t. Jeffrey fooled him and after agreeing to leave the territory, just as my father was escorting him off our land, Jeffrey went crazy and made to run toward my older sister, ready to attack her. My father killed him in the fight.”

“So he could be Sophia’s father?” Stiles asked.

“Absolutely not,” Henry said.

“I didn’t mean,” Stiles sighed. “Jesus, I just meant that maybe he hurt your mother. I’m sorry; I should have thought that through before saying anything.”

“Either way, there’s no way that he could’ve been Sophia’s real father because Katherine was in Montana with her parents at the time. Her sister had just had a baby and her sister's mate had been killed by hunters a few months earlier while travelling.”

“We know that’s true because we know when my cousin Allysa was born,” Henry said. “We’ve seen pictures of my mom with them, holding a newborn baby. When Mom was dying, she looked at the pictures all the time.”

“Sophia said that they never visited?” Stiles prompted.

“They did when my mom got sick the first time,” Henry said sadly. “Anytime we’ve asked why we can’t see them, we’re told that that they broke their treaty with us and that we kept the alliance official out of respect for my mom.”

Wyatt swiped his phone until he landed on a picture that was definitely a treaty. “These are the details of the Bennigan and Rosewood pack alliance written the year before Katherine and Marcus was married.” He swiped again and zoomed in on the top of the next document. “This is another alliance document, but this treaty was rewritten while Katherine was pregnant with Sophia.”

Henry shook his head as he read it over. “So they’ve all been hiding this from us? My mom cheated on my dad and that broke the treaty. Because she pledged to be faithful to the Rosewood pack?”

“That’s what it looks like,” Wyatt said, sadly. “I’m sorry, Henry.”

Henry huffed. “This isn’t… This kind of shit, Wyatt... This isn’t going to fly when you’re the Alpha. You can’t do this kind of stuff to people. There can’t be secrets and lies that fuck up the lives of other people.”

“Of course not,” Wyatt said. “That’s why I wanted to talk about this with you.”

“Wouldn’t Sophia have seen her birth certificate?” Stiles wondered.

“Not with my father having a wolf in just about every place that she’d ever need them,” Wyatt said.

“Except for Montana,” Stiles said dully. “Where she wanted to go to school.”

“I guess so,” Wyatt answered. He wrapped his arm around Henry. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I don’t know,” Henry said honestly. “This is a lot of shit to take in! Sophia had a right to know who her father was.”

“Colin died in the fire,” Stiles reminded him. “If she’d known him, she may have been there visiting, the whole damn family was in that house except for Laura and Derek. That is, I mean, we are sure Colin is her father, right?”

“Yes, it explains so much and I don’t think he knew,” Wyatt told him. “With my father’s connection and the lies about Jeffrey being her true father, people who knew that to be the truth likely thought the same you did. I doubt the first birth certificate was seen by anyone except the pack doctor, and our parents.”

“This is so fucked up,” Henry groaned.

“I don’t know what to do now. Do we call them out on this? Make my father and Marcus tell the truth?”

“No.” Henry said firmly. “I will not let my mother’s memory…”

“You’re right,” Wyatt said quickly.

“But I will have to tell my pack,” Stiles said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Because if we’re right and Colin Hale was Sophia’s father, then it means that my children are also Hales and that will mean so much to Derek, Cora and Peter. They’ve talked about Colin often and they deserve to know the truth. I can promise you that it will go no further than our pack.”

“I understand that,” Henry said.

“I almost wish that I hadn’t found this stuff,” Wyatt said softly, rubbing Henry’s back. “I knew this would hurt you and I’m sorry it has.”

“But if you hadn’t, Stiles might think that Sophia didn’t ever love him,” Henry stated and gave Stiles a questioning look.

“I know she did,” Stiles said. “I’m still hurt because no matter what, she did lie to me and betray me by purposely not telling me about the mating ritual after she learned that I didn’t know of them. I loved her and I’ll never regret marrying her because she gave me my three beautiful children, but she also kept me from my real mate.”

“You’re human though, Stiles,” Wyatt said amicably. “Just because Sophia wasn’t your mate, it doesn’t mean…”

“Derek and I were secretly in love with one another from just about the first time we met,” Stiles interrupted with the shocking statement. “I was too scared to ever tell him and he wanted me to experience life outside the pack, to at least go to college I guess, before he told me of his feelings. Then I met Sophia and she called me her mate, so I was. This year, on Thanksgiving I got in a fight with him and somehow, I don’t remember exactly, I hurt him. I still haven’t seen the marks, but Scott said they’re pretty bad.”

“Since Thanksgiving?” Henry asked. “So you two…”

“No, they haven’t,” Wyatt said. “They smell like pack, like the same home, but they don’t smell of one another like that. At least not until this morning, anyway and he said he hasn’t seen Derek’s marks.”

“There were a lot of revelations made last night,” Stiles said, blushing a little. “He loves me and he’s been waiting to know that I love him in return since I was sixteen. He didn’t tell me about the marks, I learned about them from Scott last night. Scott thought he was seeing someone or something and didn’t want to say, but then one thing led to another and I guess Scott figured out that Derek and I are mates. He made me ask Derek, using words I never asked Sophia, so I did. I forced his shift, forced his honest answer and things went from there.”

“Holy crap!” Henry yelled. “I fucking knew it! I've suspected for years now that Derek’s in love with you, but he's been so good at hiding it. I definitely didn’t think you ever had feelings for him, though. You never even mentioned likely guys.”

“He is, he was, and I do,” Stiles said. “At first Derek buried them and we were just completely platonic friends for years. After I hurt him on Thanksgiving, he held back because he wanted to give me time to grieve. He’s still giving it and as long as I keep him anchored, he can handle waiting until I’m ready to move forward with him.”

“Are you in love with him?” Wyatt asked.

“I don’t think I ever stopped, but I also still love Sophia. I know that it should be an easy choice, to just choose to move on, but it’s really fucking hard.”

Henry walked around the table and pulled Stiles into a hug. “You realize that Derek is the only werewolf I’ve ever heard of who has controlled himself for so long without claiming their mate? Even with you as his anchor, that isn’t enough of a grounding force to stop his wolf, or it shouldn’t be.”

“Don’t ever tell him I said this,” Wyatt told Stiles, “but Derek must have more power and self-control than any Alpha that has ever lived.”

“He understands grief,” Stiles said and smiled slightly. “I think the empathy he feels and the love he has for me helps a lot.”

“He’s going to be really happy once you tell him about the kids,” Henry said and kissed Stiles’ cheek. He looked at Wyatt. “Are we ready to head back?”

“I am,” Wyatt agreed.

Stiles teased, “Look at you, already learning to defer to your Alpha for his decision.”

“Fuck you,” Henry snorted, pushing Stiles as they walked toward the car.

“Is that an offer?” Stiles asked.

“Maybe,” Henry retorted, leering.

“I’ll take it into consideration…” Stiles paused. “When werewolves fly.”

“You guys flirt like children,” Wyatt pointed out. “It’s so gross and incestuous. Please, stop! I can’t handle anymore weirdness today.”

“Then you’d better get out of Beacon Hills,” Stiles told him. “My life is the weirdest life a human has ever had.”

There were no disagreements from either Wyatt or Henry.

After dropping Wyatt and Henry off at the Whittemore residence, Stiles pulled over to the side of the road to call his dad. Though his father and Melissa adored spending time with his children, Stiles knew how hard it was having three little ones underfoot all day. Trips to the park were usually followed up with naps for all three of his children and there were many times that Stiles had to join them in slumber. He didn’t want his father and Melissa to feel obligated to have them overnight if the children had run them ragged already. “Hey, Dad.” Stiles greeted his father as Noah answered his phone.

“Hi, Stiles.”

“How are the kids?” Stiles asked.

“Napping,” Noah replied and chuckled. “They looked close to sleep the whole way back from the park. Melissa had to engage them with nursery rhymes and goofy faces to keep them awake.”

“Yeah, it can be a hassle to get all three out of the car if they’ve fallen asleep,” Stiles commiserated. “Are you and Melissa tired out too?”

“Nah,” Noah said. “Marcus and Brogan sort of took over when it came to chasing after them at the park.”

“So you still want to keep them overnight?” Stiles asked.

“Of course,” Noah said. “Melissa’s promised to build a blanket fort with them and I’ve rented that new Disney movie Arek wanted to see.”

“That sounds like a pretty awesome night,” Stiles said, relieved. “Will you have them call me before bedtime so I can say goodnight to them?”

“Of course,” Noah agreed. “Did you have fun hanging out with Wyatt and Henry?”

Stiles always enjoyed hanging out with them, but he couldn’t exactly call the lunch they had shared ‘fun’. “Yeah.”

“The time it took you to answer that question tells me that's not entirely true.”

Stiles sighed. “There was just some stuff about Sophia that was brought up…. I don’t really want to talk about it now, but I will talk to you about it soon, okay?”

“I can live with that,” Noah said. “What are your plans for the rest of the day? Marcus said Wyatt and Henry are going to play paintball with some of the pack.”

“Yeah, most of the werewolves are going.” Stiles laughed at a distant memory of the one time he’d gone with Scott, Sophia and Derek. It had been nearly impossible to sneak up on any of them and even with Sophia on his team, Scott and Derek had consistently pelted them to the point that he had to resign from the game in fear for his peach-like skin. It had been a good call, because when he’d gotten home Sophia had spent almost an hour sucking his pain and his body had taken the color of an eggplant for well over a week. Scott and Derek still, to this day, insisted that they’d gone easy on him and hadn’t even used their werewolf senses. “I learned my lesson to not join in unless more than half of those going are also human and that’s not the case today. It’s all right though. I’m looking forward to spending the rest of the day relaxing.”

“You deserve it,” Noah said. “We’ll call you later, all right?”

“Yeah. Thanks for keeping them today and please tell Melissa I said thank you again, too.”

“I will kid,” Noah assured. “Talk to you soon.”

“Okay. Bye.” Stiles disconnected the call and pulled back onto the road in the direction of home and was startled by the look on his face that he saw in the rearview mirror. He was smiling and once that sunk in and he realized the reason for it, he smiled even wider. He was going _home_ and he couldn’t wait to get there. It occurred to him that now that he had permission to think of Derek’s house in such a way, the feeling of what the home represented came so naturally to him. The large home on the edge of the Preserve was still dubbed ‘The Alpha’s house’ or ‘Derek’s house’, by the pack, but now it was his home too. It was the home that Derek, his children and he were going to be a family in together. That thought set forth an array of emotions to unfurl from inside him.

As Stiles drove on, he thought about all the conversations he’d had recently about his future and his children’s futures. Though there were some things that he still needed to figure out, he came to the realization that he knew with complete certainty where he belonged. Even if mate bonds had not existed, he felt like Derek and he would still have found one another. True, it may not have happened so quickly after Sophia’s death, but he was sure that it would have happened eventually. Derek would’ve given him years if he needed them to move on, and Stiles likely wouldn’t have needed that long to notice how fervently Derek was committed to the kids and him. With time Derek wouldn’t have been so distant, so maybe he actually wouldn’t have needed much time to see that Derek loved him. Stiles loved Derek, had loved him for a long, long time, but there was still something stopping him from telling Derek that he was ready to mate with him, to be claimed.

Even if he wasn’t ready, the mate bond was still there, a bond that was currently wreaking havoc on Derek’s mind and body. It was some supernatural force that couldn’t be conquered, and rarely managed. For him though, for him, Derek was doing just that and it was possibly the most selfless thing Stiles had ever heard of anyone doing for someone they loved. Stiles still hadn’t seen the marks he’d left on Derek, but he knew they were festering and probably hurt him with every breath he took. Stiles hated that he couldn’t soothe them. He desperately wanted to be ready to complete their bond and put Derek out of his misery, but he still needed something. The problem was, he wasn’t sure exactly what it was that he needed to make him take the next step. It was cruel, he knew to make Derek wait, but he didn’t want to bond their lives together until he could figure out what that something was.

  
~*~

For the first time in months Derek spent most of his day without being around Stiles because he had to avoid him. He had also spent the day recalling how good their scents smelled together and how perfect Stiles’ body felt against his own. Though the marks were painful and he yearned to be near Stiles, the pain and longing was much more manageable than it had been, and thinking about Stiles wasn’t painful at all. Isaac had caught him staring into space multiple times during and Cora teased him, saying that perhaps Derek had met someone knew that he couldn’t stop thinking about. It wasn’t a lie when he said he hadn’t, Cora gave him a look of disbelief and Isaac gave him an expression that Derek didn’t want to decipher. He was pretty sure that Isaac knew, but his friend was far too kind to point that out.

It was almost mid-afternoon by the time they finished that day’s deliveries. Derek desperately wanted to get home to Stiles, and when Isaac told him he’d take care of the billing he had been too scatter brained to enter correctly into the computer, he nearly jumped from the chair and ran out the door. He also almost dropped to all fours and let his wolf take him home, but he’d driven his car over and it was far too light out for Derek to cross the main highway that separated Cora and Isaac’s home from the Hale property without being seen by a motorist. Most of Beacon Hills had accepted that wolves were now a part of their wilderness areas, the howling, wolf tracks and occasional far off sightings couldn’t be ignored, but they didn’t need to see him up close in the daylight unafraid of humans, which might scare someone and prompt that person to go hunting.

When he pulled into the driveway he was happy to see that Stiles was home and the moment he opened his car door he could smell the meal Stiles was cooking inside. He knew he’d walk in and his primal side would be at war within him for a little while. He felt a strong feeling he couldn’t name whenever Stiles cooked, providing for him, and when it happened in his home, the feeling intensified. Thankfully, he didn’t have to hide those feelings anymore, just rein them in a little.

He walked inside and called out, “Stiles, I’m home.”

“I’m in the kitchen,” Stiles called back. “Go wash up and I’ll have dinner finished by the time you come down. I was just waiting for you to get here so I could cook the eggs.”

Derek did as asked and a few minutes later, only a few because he took the fastest shower known to man, he went back downstairs and found Stiles in the dining room. “Hey.” Suddenly he felt awkward, wanting to go to Stiles and kiss him, but he wasn’t sure it was allowed.

Stiles looked up from where he was dishing out salad and gave Derek a soft smile. “Hi. Did your deliveries go all right?”

“Yeah,” Derek replied, still hovering just inside the dining room’s entrance.

“Well come in and sit down,” Stiles told him. “I made steak and eggs and a garden salad. It was the only thing we had that wasn’t purely barbecue food, which I’m kind of already tired of and barbecue season has only just begun.”

“This smells delicious,” Derek said and walked over to the head of the table where Stiles had his plate waiting.

Stiles grabbed the drawstring of his flannel pants and pulled, tugging Derek close to him and batting his eyelashes. “Kiss the cook?” he asked playfully.

Any tension Derek felt dissipated and he leaned down and touched his lips to Stiles’. It started off as a slow languid kiss, but when Stiles’ hands moved to his hips and Derek started leaning back onto the table it became heated and almost desperate.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Stiles muttered, pulling away from Derek and nearly tilting his chair backward with the force of his movements, but Derek’s quick reflexes stopped that from happening.

“Sorry,” Derek instantly apologized and sat in his chair.

“Don’t apologize,” Stiles told him. “I want to do that with you, like a whole fucking lot.” He squirmed around in his seat and adjusted himself. “So much. I also didn’t eat much at lunch and have been cooking for a while and don’t want it to go to waste. Plus, I need to talk to you about something.”

Derek could feel the color drain from his face. “What about?”

“It’s nothing bad,” Stiles said, and his heartrate remained as steady as it could be after a heavy make-out session. “I mean, it’s upsetting, but it has nothing to do with our relationship, not really.”

“Those statements are very confusing,” Derek said and grabbed the A1 steak sauce. If he focused on the task of eating it would help the earlier bad tension from rising.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Stiles said. “Let’s eat and you tell me about your day first. You said the deliveries went well, did you do any carving in the shop today?”

With Stiles’ prompting Derek told him about all of the furniture deliveries and about the new commission pieces he was going to help Isaac and Cora with. As soon as they finished he asked, “How was your day?”

“Weird, I guess,” Stiles admitted. “As you know I had lunch with Wyatt and Henry.” Stiles grabbed his cell phone from his pocket and flipped to the text of pictures he’d asked Wyatt to send him after he’d gotten home.

Derek looked at the phone screen when Stiles held it out for him. “What am I looking at?”

“This is Sophia’s birth certificate,” Stiles said. “Her real birth certificate.” He tapped on the screen to enlarge it. “Colin Hale is listed as her father.”

Derek felt his mouth hang open but he could do nothing to stop the slack-jawed surprise he felt and struggled to ask, “What…. What th… the hell? Where did you get this?”

“Wyatt showed it to me today and that’s not all he found,” Stiles said. He showed Derek the other document pictures. “We can’t be completely certain, we’ll have to find some way to test this and I thought we could also ask Deaton and see if he has records from when the Bennigan pack visited the Hales, or the reverse during the time Sophia was conceived.”

“How long has Wyatt known about this?”

“Only a couple of days. When he returned from his trip, his dad set him to task, asked him to make digital copies and start a filing system on the computers. Brogan’s probably going to transfer his power within the next year and he wants Wyatt to be ready. However, he must have forgotten that he had these paper copies.”

“The Great Rosewoods,” Derek growled with a sarcastic tone. “I can’t believe Marcus went along with this, you know it wasn’t his idea.”

“Or Sophia’s mom’s idea,” Stiles said sadly. “Still, I can’t believe that she wouldn’t just find a way to divorce Marcus if she didn’t love him anymore. I know it’s rare with mates, but it does happen. I just don’t understand how she could cheat on him after they were mated.”

“It does and it’s usually because of cheating,” Derek confirmed.

“But how can someone cheat on their mate?” Stiles asked, struggling to understand the concept.

“You’re not going to like my answer,” Derek warned.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Let me guess, humans are the ones that cheat.”

Derek winced and nodded. “The only cases I’ve ever heard of it happening, yes that is the case. No matter how strong a mate bond is, sometimes humans just don’t feel it the way they should. That distance they feel from their mate, especially if they’ve grown up in a pack like Katherine did and heard all her life about the bond, the distance can cause discourse in the relationship.”

“Do you think that Katherine voiced this to Sophia and that was why Sophia didn’t believe in it for so long?”

“Maybe,” Derek said softly. “She also may have just been really perceptive and noticed something off between her parents.”

“Derek, if this is true, I know you’re going to want to discuss it with Brogan, probably challenge him or something, but I really need you to not do that.”

“I can’t just let them get away with this!” Derek scoffed. “If this is true, they completely dishonored the Hale pack.”

“If this is true, Colin dishonored the Rosewoods,” Stiles said gently. “I’m not saying that you shouldn’t tell our pack or that we should keep this from the kids once they’re old enough to ask questions about their lineage, but for now we can’t talk to the Rosewoods about it. Wyatt could lose his rank and he’s worked so hard for it. If his father finds out Wyatt showed us personal documents from the pack library, it could be grounds for kicking him and Henry out of the pack.”

“You really don’t want to confront Brogan or Marcus?”

“I do,” Stiles said. “But I’d rather we wait until after Wyatt and Henry is secure in their positions in the pack. They’re family to me and they will understand us talking it over with Brogan and Marcus in the future.”

Derek ran a hand over his face and sighed. “Fine, I will wait to talk to them, but after they leave tomorrow I don’t want either of them invited to Beacon Hills until we are ready to bring this to light.”

“Deal,” Stiles agreed. He grabbed Derek’s hand and squeezed it. “Thank you.”

Derek pulled Stiles out of his chair and into his lap. He hugged him close and breathed in his scent from his hair. “You don’t have to thank me for doing what is right; you’re almost always spot on when it comes to that.”

Stiles rubbed his face against Derek’s neck and laughed. “Only almost?”

Derek laughed. “Well you did once insist that we should attack that perfectly peaceful coven of witches on the outskirts of our territory all because you got lost a silly argument with one of them.”

“It wasn’t silly,” Stiles insisted. “The guy told me that I couldn’t like DC and Marvel. He wanted me to choose and when I couldn’t he said I wasn’t a true fan of either.”

“Still not a reason to wage war,” Derek said and kissed away anything else Stiles was about to say.

***

After dinner, Stiles went on a walk while Derek cleaned up the kitchen. He loved being with Derek, but he needed a little time alone to reflect on his day now that he had told Derek about it. The small walk around the property did him a lot of good and he felt like he had a lot of his feelings sorted out. As soon as he walked into the house, his cell phone rang and the caller ID told him it was Amanda Berg, his real-estate agent. “Hello?”

“Stiles, I have great news!” the woman shouted.

“Is there a decent offer on the house?” He toed off his shoes in the mudroom before entering the door leading into the kitchen.

“There sure is,” Amanda said. “And I think you’re going to like it too.”

Stiles opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water out of it. “Okay,” he said, shouldering the phone to twist the cap off the water bottle. “Lay it on me.”

“Are you sitting down?” Amanda asked.

Stiles swallowed his gulp of water and placed the bottle on the counter. “Should I be?” Amanda had been working her ass off for him, staging the home, holding open houses and drumming up dozens of people interested in private showings. Unfortunately, there were many other homes around the area for sale and they were smaller and cheaper. There weren’t many people who wanted a home so large, even if they could afford it because the upkeep on the inside of the home was a lot of work and the acres of land it sat upon required even more.

“I guess you don’t have to be,” Amanda told him, laughing. “Knowing you, you’ll be jumping around with excitement anyway when I tell you that there is not one, but two offers on the table and one of them is for over the asking price.”

Stiles sucked in a deep breath. No, he wasn’t jumping around, not yet, he wouldn’t until the sale went through. Even then, it would be a relief, but in all of her excitement, Amanda had forgotten that selling the home was just another reminder of Sophia being dead and his children losing their mother. “How much over the asking price?” 

“Twenty-five thousand,” Amanda spoke excitedly.

“Wow,” Stiles breathed out and leaned against the counter. “Is that normal?”

“Not in my experience,” Amanda admitted. “This is really amazing news. Your house appreciated in value to the point that if we sell for asking, you’ve more than made back everything you put into it, but now you’ll have the extra twenty-five, too. There is a condition on that offer, but I told the agent that you’d probably meet it.”

“What condition? And shouldn’t I maybe look at the other offer?”

“The client wants an answer by nine this evening and they want their closing date to be the end of this month. You can look at the other offer, but as your agent I can tell you now that it isn’t nearly as good. That offer has contingencies on bank loans and the sale of their current home, while this one is a cash in hand, cut and dry sale.”

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll want to look over the paperwork before I decide, but I’ll call you as soon as I do.” He also wanted to vet the clients, make sure they were good people and wouldn’t conflict with the pack.”

“Great!” Amanda cheered. “I’ll email you the contract now and you can e-sign it after you look it over and send it back to me.”

“I’ll have it back to you by nine,” Stiles promised.

“Call me when you send it,” Amanda said. “If you’re free we can get started looking at new homes tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Stiles sighed. “Wait, Amanda I…”

“Or the next day,” Amanda rushed out. “I think I’m more excited about this deal than you are.”

Stiles laughed. “Well you do get a ten percent commission.”

“True,” she said. “It will be nice to pay off my car. I’ll talk to you later. Bye, Stiles!”

“Bye, Amanda.” Stiles ended the call and sagged against the counter. This was the end of one life and the beginning of another and he was really, really, really fucking scared.

“You’re moving out?”

Stiles screeched and jumped in reaction to the low steely voice coming from the hall. He turned around, one hand clutched over his racing heart, and faced Derek. “Jesus! Why in the fuck were you listening in on my private phone call? That is not cool, man. Not cool at all!”

“I was wiping down the table in the dining room.”

“That doesn’t explain why you freaking got all creepy on me!” Stiles grabbed his water bottle and took long pulls from it.

“Sorry, I was just in the other room and overheard it and I just…”

Stiles slammed the bottle on the counter and glared. “You didn’t just overhear it! You listened in on my phone call. You can choose whether or not you use your super hearing, so don’t use that as an excuse.”

Derek shrugged. “Then I guess I don’t have an excuse.”

“Do you have an apology?” Stiles asked. “Because if we’re going to do this, you’re going to have to allow me some privacy. I shouldn’t have to lock myself away in one of the soundproof rooms to have a private phone conversation.”

“I am sorry.” Derek’s brooding expression lightened and his lips quirked a little. “You’re not moving out?”

Stiles grabbed Derek’s hand and pulled him closer, letting the fronts of their bodies entwine and he heard Derek let out a shaky breath. “No,” he spoke and held Derek’s eyes with his own. “This… You, you’re what I want. This is my home now.”

Derek still looked unsure but offered a dim smile. “But you didn’t tell Amanda…”

“I didn’t want to crush her mood,” Stiles interrupted. “She was really happy about selling the house and I didn’t want to be like… ‘Hey, remember that other commission you think you’re getting when we find me a new house, well you’re not getting it!’ I’ll let her know when I call her tonight, but at least she can have a few hours of happiness first and I think I may raise her commission from my house to fifteen percent.”

“If you did want to move out with the kids, I wouldn’t like it, but if it’s what you need, I’d understand,” Derek said quietly.

Stiles reached up and brushed his hand through Derek’s thick dark hair and then cupped the back of his neck. “I know you would. That’s why I know that I’m right where I belong.”

Derek smiled widely this time. “Me too. I meant to ask earlier, did you talk to your dad today?”

“Yeah,” Stiles answered and rested his head against Derek’s shoulder. “He and Melissa are still going to keep them overnight. I should probably call soon and say goodnight to them.”

“That’s good,” Derek said. “You smell like you need a break.”

“My break is what made me smell, it’s pretty hot outside this time of day,” Stiles laughed dryly. “I’m never going to get over the weirdness of people actually smelling things that shouldn’t have scents. What color is it that smells like sunshine to you, again?”

Derek rolled his eyes and bit his lip before replying, “I can’t remember.”

Stiles knew that wasn’t true, but he’d let it go for now. Derek being embarrassed and looking adorable while doing it, didn’t need to be messed with. “I really need to take a shower.”

“Yeah?” Derek asked, dipping his head to nose against Stiles’ hairline. “What else do you want?” he whispered then moved to nuzzle against the juncture between Stiles’ shoulder and neck. “What else do you need, Stiles?”

Stiles took deep breaths laced with Derek’s scent and molded himself tighter to his mate while trying not to overreact to how good Derek’s strong hard body felt against him. “This. This is good.”

To Be Continued in Chapter Eleven


	12. Chapter Eleven: "All Relative"

_"The past,' he thought, 'is linked with the present by an unbroken chain of events flowing one out of another.' And it seemed to him that he had just seen both ends of that chain; that when he touched one end the other quivered.”_ ~ Anton Chekhov

The next morning when Stiles woke up he was grateful that he wasn’t alone in Derek’s big bed. This time, Derek was pressed up against his side, lying on his stomach part-way down the bed, face turned toward him and with his arm hugging Stiles’ thighs. Stiles had been sleeping on his back, so the position gave him the means to observe Derek without moving and risking waking him. Derek was truly beautiful, even if the position he rested in made him look a little silly. Asleep, Derek was completely relaxed and the tension that seemed to always be within Derek had vanished. He could hardly believe that a man who was so stunning could want him. Stiles’ body was far from the teenage one he’d been in when he’d met Derek, but he was also far from looking so perfectly muscled.

Stiles let his eyes travel down the length of Derek’s body, assessing him in a way that he was now free to do while Derek was awake, but still felt a little shy doing. He took his fill of the sight and he felt himself growing hard as his eyes lingered on Derek’s perfectly formed ass, encased in a pair of blue, thin cotton boxer briefs that had ridden up into his crack. The t-shirt Derek wore had inched up his back, showcasing a strip of pale dimpled skin right over the boxers’ waistband. Stiles swallowed thickly and had to force his eyes away from the sight before he reached out and touched Derek, possibly starting something he wasn’t sure they were ready to continue. When he did tear his gaze away, he found himself looking into Derek’s open bleary-eyed gaze.

“Mornin’,” Derek muttered and snuffled against Stiles’ ribs. “You smell so good.”

“Uh… thanks and good morning,” Stiles squeaked. Seriously, looking at Derek with his beautiful, colorful eyes and thick raspberry sleep-slackened lips wasn’t actually a deterrent for his growing arousal.

“What time did you decide to tell your dad we’d be picking up the kids?” Derek asked.

Stiles grabbed a hold of that lifeline because yeah, thoughts of his children were absolutely a bucket of ice cold water for his libido. He slowly sat up, extracting himself from Derek’s grip. “We’re supposed to pick them up at eleven.”

Derek moaned a little and rolled until he sat up beside him on the bed, legs dangling over the side as he rubbed his sleepy face. “And you want to go see Deaton afterward?”

“Yes,” Stiles said. “I know that we could do it any time, but if it’s confirmed, maybe I won’t feel so betrayed,” he admitted. “I mean, there’s nothing I can do about it. What’s done is done, she’s still going to be gone, but I really don’t want to feel so mad at her. It isn’t right to be mad at someone who isn’t even here anymore.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Stiles felt like an idiot for saying them. “Jesus, I sound like such an asshole!”

“You don’t sound like an asshole,” Derek told him and kissed his cheek. “I can promise you right now that when the pack finds out that you and Sophia weren’t mates…”

“We’re going to tell them all?” Stiles asked, wide-eyed.

Derek gave Stiles an incredulous stare. “I thought you figured that out already. It doesn’t have to be now, not until you’re ready to tell them about us, but when we do, they’re going to know.”

“But…” Stiles’ shoulders dropped. “Everyone’s going to know what a fucking pathetic idiot I am. Who the fuck marries a born werewolf and doesn’t know about these mating rituals? Who doesn’t know about the markings? I’m the historian, the researcher and yet I didn’t know something that is such a huge fucking part of werewolf life! Hell, I still don’t know everything about it. There’s _a lot_ of research I need to do. As soon as we get back, I’m going through all the books in the library until I’m satisfied and I want you to tell me everything about the Hale customs. No detail is too small!”

“No one’s going to think differently of you, Stiles. It’s up to the werewolf to tell their human mate and with all the research you’ve done that’s saved all of our lives countless times, I think you get a pass on this. Knowing you, if you’d been with someone who wasn’t so opposed to werewolf customs and rituals, you would’ve researched the hell out of it, but you didn’t because you trusted Sophia, because she was a Rosewood.”

“But…”

Derek put his hand over Stiles mouth for moment. “You’ve already made my point by saying that you want to research and find out all about it. As for the pack and their reaction to what Sophia did, they’ll probably be pissed, but there’s nothing you can do about that. Even if you find out that she was of Hale blood, I hate to say this, but she still deliberately misled you and knew that her last name made it easy for you not to question her. You and everyone else deserve to be pissed about that. We can wait to tell the pack that we’re together, but eventually they’re all going to know the truth, because you are my mate and I’m not going to hide that from anyone now that you are aware.”

Last night, while Stiles did what he needed to do for the house sale, Derek had busied himself by calling Peter and explaining what Stiles told him. He was much younger than his siblings and knew they wouldn’t have talked to him about any type of affair Colin may have had. The timeframe made it even harder for him to recall because he had spent the summer visiting relatives in Scotland and he didn’t remember there being any turmoil within the family toward Colin when he returned home.

If the children were Hales, which Derek was almost 100 percent certain of because of his Alpha power bond with Arek, it wouldn’t change how Derek felt about the kids, but it would make Sophia’s betrayal a little easier to handle for Stiles. If Sophia had been drawn to him because of a pack bond, she may have mistaken it for a mate bond.

Derek took Stiles’ hand in his and told him, “I don’t want you to feel pressured to be with me. We don’t have to do everything right away.”

Stiles pulled on Derek’s shoulder so that the man’s body faced him. “I don’t feel pressured, Derek. Yes, I want to know if there may have been other reasons as to why Sophia did what she did, but it doesn’t have anything to do with how I feel about her in relation to how I feel about you. I’m not telling myself that I’m okay with being with you so soon after she died because she wronged me. The reasons I have for being hesitant about us isn’t because I feel like I’d be betraying her, not anymore and it has nothing to do with the fact that Sophia hurt me. It’s because we’re mates and because I’ve loved you for a long time. You weren’t the only one pining.”

Derek gave Stiles a thoughtful look before nodding in acceptance. “Can I…” he trailed off and looked down.

Stiles put his hand on Derek’s chin and tilted it up. “What, Derek?” It was odd watching Derek behave like he was shy and insecure.

Derek moved away and stood up. “Can I make you breakfast?”

Stiles laughed. “Dude, you’ve known me for how long? Surely you don’t think that I’m going to fall for food as a diversionary tactic. You were not going to ask that.”

Derek shrugged and the tips of his ears turned pink. “Now's not the right time to talk about what I was going to ask.”

“All right,” Stiles said, allowing Derek the out. He would definitely be discussing it with Derek later. “I want waffles, bacon and sausage!”

Derek smiled. “And freshly squeezed orange juice?”

“Only if you go out and pick the oranges from our trees while wearing those boxers.”

Derek stared with his mouth hanging open for a moment before he sputtered, “Do you have some orange picking kink I need to know about?”

Stiles wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “I think you’re going to have a cherry picking kink…” He put his hand over his mouth. “Oh god, forget I was about to say that or this is going to turn into us not leaving this room. I don’t know why I’m giving in to the whole outdated idea of virginity.”

“And I’m going to forget you said all of that too,” Derek said and rushed out of the bedroom.

“Well,” Stiles said to himself, mostly his erection, and possibly Derek because he’d left the bedroom door open, so any noises made within could now be heard by supernatural hearing. “I guess I’ll be taking a cold shower this morning.”

  
~*~

“I want her,” Danika said, cuddling the kitten closer to her chest.

“Me! Me!” Klaudia chirped, bouncing up and down in front of her big sister, trying to capture the kitten Danika held.

“She already belongs to somebody, kiddo,” Stiles said. He gave Deaton a look that dared him to say otherwise, but the man just smiled and remained silent.

“You’re lying,” Danika accused and sat down on the floor so that Klaudia could also pet the kitten.

“You’re calling me a liar?” Stiles gasped. Yes, he was lying. He had no doubt that the kitten, one of nine that had been dropped off at the veterinarian clinic the night before, had yet to have an owner. Stiles liked animals, but he wasn’t sure that Derek did and there was so many things going on in their lives right now that he didn’t think that adding a pet would make it any easier.

“I heard your heart,” Danika said. She passed the kitten over to Klaudia and her little sister smiled brightly and began to gently pet the feline. “Alpha Derek teaches me, you know.” Danika crossed her arms and glared up at Stiles with an expression that mirrored the one Stiles had just given Deaton. “I want a kitty.”

“I’m sorry for fibbing,” Stiles began and crouched until he was eye level with Danika. “That wasn’t nice of me, but that doesn’t change my answer. One day I’ll let you come here and pick out a kitten or a dog, but not today. We’ve got a lot of stuff to do and it wouldn’t be fair to the kitten if we ignored her on her first day home.”

“What stuff?” Danika asked and picked up two of the other kittens.

“Just stuff,” Stiles said. “But that’ll wait until we get back home.”

“Don’t wanna go,” Arek said and giggled as three kittens snuffled against his face.

“We’re not leaving yet,” Stiles assured him. “Remember, I said that Derek and I need to talk to Dr. Deaton? We’re going to do that in there.” He pointed to the room next to the glass enclosed one they were in now. “We’ll be right inside there talking to him and you guys can play with the kittens while we do.”

“Okay,” Arek replied, content.

Derek helped Klaudia sit down and then picked up one of the least playful kittens and put it in her lap. “You have to be very gentle with the kitten, okay?”

Klaudia nodded and used one finger to pet the black fur. “Baby.”

“That’s right,” Derek told her. “She’s a baby. And looks like she’s almost asleep.”

“So’s mine,” Danika said and began to rock her kitten as if it were an actual baby.

“You’re sure they’re going to be okay in here with them?” Stiles asked Deaton.

“They’ll be fine,” Deaton told him. “They’re more sensitive to them than human children are and kittens are pretty resilient.”

“But Arek was already scratched once,” Stiles said.

“It was just a scratch and it healed seconds after it happened.” He took Stiles hand and led him toward the door to the other room. “We’ll be able to see them the whole time. They just won’t be able to hear us, it’ll be okay.”

“All right,” Stiles agreed. Once Deaton shut the door behind them he told Derek, “You’ve got to help me be strong about the kitten thing, okay? They’re going to go nuts when we try to leave. They’re going to scream, cry and beg to take one of them home, but we’ve got to be strong.”

“I don’t like cats,” Derek said. “You don’t have to convince me to help you with the struggle. I’m their Alpha, Stiles, they’ll listen when I tell them to.”

Stiles pinned Derek with a steely look. “I hope that you’re joking right now and that you haven’t ever done that shit before. You know I don’t like it. I do not want you to use your Alpha power shit unless it is in direct relation to werewolf stuff.”

“We _are_ werewolves,” Derek said pointedly. “Everything is ‘werewolf stuff’ when it comes to us.”

“Tell me, right now that you’ve never done that shit to try and bend them to your will!” Stiles demanded angrily.

“Stiles,” Derek spoke softly. “I’d never try to bend them to my will. I know what it’s like to grow up with an Alpha for a parent, okay? I would never _make_ them do anything or betray my connection to them like that. When I said that, it’s because it’s true. You’ve seen it for yourself. They do not fear me, they respect me and it is instinct for them to listen to their Alpha.”

“But it isn’t instinct for them to listen to me?” Stiles asked. “They don’t need to respect me as long as they respect you? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Oh god,” Derek groaned and put his face over his hands. “There is no way that I can win in this conversation.”

“That being the case,” Deaton cut in and actually stepped into the little space between Stiles and Derek. “Perhaps one of you could enlighten me as to when your relationship status changed and what exactly the reason is for this urgent visit?”

Stiles stepped back and crossed his arms over his chest. This was definitely not the time to discuss parenting techniques with Derek and as he had a moment to cool down, he realized that he wasn’t entirely sure that he was in the right for yelling at him about it in the first place. Derek was a werewolf, he’d always been a werewolf and he’d been parenting the children just fine. He was allowing the stress he was under and his own insecurities to blow things out of proportion. He didn’t want to have this conversation with Deaton standing between them. He stepped around the veterinarian, gave Derek an apologetic look and took his hand in his. “Our relationship is new,” Stiles answered. “And Derek, you’re right.”

Derek was too surprised to say anything in return.

“I’d say it’s rather old actually,” Deaton said, smirking.

“Then why did you ask?” Stiles inquired.

“I thought you might tell me when you both came aware that the status actually changed.”

“We’re mates,” Derek said.

Deaton’s eyes widened and he looked back and forth between them before taking a few steps backward. “Mates?”

Stiles smirked, feeling a little joyful that he’d visibly surprised the man that always made it seem as if he knew everything. “Yes.”

Deaton rubbed his chin. “Do you mean that you are mates in a general term?”

“There really isn’t a general term when it comes to werewolves using that word,” Derek said dryly.

Deaton looked confused. “But Stiles and Sophia…”

“We were never mates,” Stiles said. “She felt pulled to me, to the Hale pack we think, and I was never made aware of the rituals and did not know of them until two nights ago.” He didn’t want to have to go into details about how he’d learned of them, but he knew Deaton would ask at some point.

“That's not possible,” Deaton said. “Sophia may have taken your last name when you married, she may have become a part of the Hale pack, but she was a Rosewood.”

“That’s why we’re here,” Stiles told him.

“Stiles came upon some information that makes us believe that Sophia may have been a Hale,” Derek said.

“What is this information?” Deaton queried. “And what makes you two believe that you’re mates? Not that I haven’t seen the attraction between the two of you, but…”

“I asked him,” Stiles said. “He told me that I was his mate.”

“Derek, I know that you weren’t left with much from your family, but I’m not sure you understand the rituals,” Deaton said gently. “It isn’t just physical attraction and love. To be someone’s mate, there is…”

“Marks,” Derek growled. He dropped Stiles’ hand and quickly pulled off his t-shirt, baring the wounds to Deaton, but more importantly, to Stiles for the first time. The bite mark now had faint black lines running through the veins surrounding it, as did the deep scratches on his shoulders. There were ten long scratches down the center of his chest, appearing to end before his waistband, obviously made from Stiles’ nails raking down his chest.

“Oh god!” Stiles gasped, horrified. He reached out to touch Derek’s chest.

“No,” Derek said, catching Stiles’ hand. “You can’t touch them. Not yet. If you do, if you start touching them, start healing me, I won’t be able to stop myself from claiming you.”

Deaton walked closer to Derek, his face wincing as he looked closer at the wounds. “They’re festering, Derek. You don’t even need his saliva to stop the infections. Just let his fingers touch them and the infection will start to disappear.”

“No,” Derek growled and pulled his shirt back on. “Didn’t you hear me?” he asked Deaton. “If I let him touch me like that, I won’t be able to control myself. Even all the Ketamine and Mountain Ash in this place won’t stop me from claiming him on that fucking exam table if he touches them!”

“That's not true,” Deaton told Derek. “You wouldn’t hurt him. Those are definitely more marks than mates usually exchange for the marking part of the ritual, but even so…”

“I’ve had these marks since last November,” Derek told Deaton in a growl. “I think I’m well acquainted with how they feel. Whenever he’s near me, whenever I smell him or touch him, they pulse and pull at the feral part of me. When the time comes, I will be able to control my instincts because I will have marked him too, my feral side will understand that he is mine and accept his touch without taking control of him. I may not have been left with much from my family, but you must remember that my mother was adamant about teaching us about pack and werewolf traditions. Stiles is my anchor and if he goes any further with completing the ritual than he’s already gone, I will lose him as such. I will lose the only thing that’s holding me together right now, to the urgent need that is inside of me every fucking moment of every fucking day. So no. No! I will not let him touch me.” 

“Derek,” Stiles gasped and grabbed his hand, entwining their fingers. “I thought I understood how hard this is for you, but I don’t. This waiting is agony for you and I don’t want you hurting like this.”

“Derek is wrong,” Deaton said, getting both Derek and Stiles’ attention.

“I’m _not_ wrong,” Derek said, clenching his teeth.

Deaton tipped his head slightly regarding Derek. “You don’t have all the information,” he said. “What you’ve done, stopping yourself from claiming your mate for so long, it’s because your mate is your anchor. That isn’t usually the case.”

“Allison is Scott’s anchor,” Stiles retorted. “They’re mates.”

“Scott isn’t an Alpha,” Deaton replied. “Alphas have so much power within them to control that they rarely trust their mate to be their anchor. I’ve heard many reasons for this, self-preservation in case their mate dies, the Alpha believes it would be a burden to their mate to accept the responsibility, or because an Alpha cannot allow himself to do so because it would make their mate equal to them in all ways. Whatever reasons Alphas have for not anchoring themselves to their mate, what they don’t realize is that if they did open themselves up and allow their mate to be their anchor, they would achieve more control.”

Stiles took in Deaton’s words and stared at Derek wide-eyed. “Did you know?” he asked. “Way back then…” his breath caught. “Did you know that you were making me your equal by anchoring yourself to me?”

Derek squeezed Stiles’ hand and gave him a dim smile. “You were my equal before I anchored myself to you.”

“Jesus, Derek,” Stiles said and couldn’t restrain himself from pecking Derek’s lips lightly.

“Back to the matter at hand,” Deaton said, smirking. “Derek, you can let Stiles heal you, though it won’t be complete healing it will work as a very good bandaid. You will be able to fight the feral part of you that wants to take over. Your instinct to claim him may feel as though it is dominating you whenever he’s close, but your instinct to not let go of your anchor will come before everything else. Those marks he left on you were not intentional and your inner wolf recognizes that.”

“How can you be sure?” Derek asked, skeptically. “It’s not like I can let him begin to heal me and then apologize later if I go feral.”

“Would you go feral if it were a part of the ritual? If you were intending to claim him?” Deaton questioned.

“No,” Derek said. “I already said that it’s different.”

“What makes you think that?” Deaton asked.

“I know the lore,” Derek said, angrily.

“Once again, you do not understand it, Derek. It’s simple. Stiles is your mate, you would never hurt him. Stiles is your anchor, you would never do anything to sever that. You couldn’t. I know you’ve heard the stories of Alphas who have had to wait weeks for one reason or another to claim their mate. I know you’ve heard how they’d gone feral with the need to be by their mate’s side, and often they had to be drugged or restrained with electricity to stop them. Do you think that they remained feral when the time came for them to complete the ritual?” Deaton didn’t wait for answer. “Of course they didn’t, or we’d have heard about that, too. You will not hurt Stiles and the fact that those marks were not made with his intention to soon claim you is even more of a reason why it is safe for him to heal you. Those marks will then completely disappear in a few days. When he chooses to give you the mark with his intention of claiming you as a mate, you will not hurt him then either. Do you understand now?”

Derek let out a whoosh of breath and sagged a little. “You’re certain?”

“I am,” Deaton said. “You should be too.”

“Let me heal them,” Stiles asked Derek.

“Not here,” Derek said. “When we get home later, okay?”

“Okay,” Stiles agreed. He told Deaton, “Thank you.”

Deaton nodded and frowned. “Sophia was not your mate, Stiles. If you’re here to look for answers as to how that’s possible, I’m sorry to tell you, but I don’t know. I’ve never heard of any werewolf of Wiyot blood not knowing their mate. What is this information you said you have?”

“I was made aware that’s it’s possible that the reason Sophia did not know her mate on sight is because she is not truly a Rosewood. It’s believed that she may have been the child of Colin Hale.”

Deaton looked shocked. “Colin? I don’t think that’s possible,” he said. “Colin never had children and if he had, he wouldn’t have given her up.”

“I don’t think he knew,” Stiles said. “Did you ever meet Katherine, Sophia’s mother?”

Deaton looked thoughtful. “I’ve known many Katherines, do you know her maiden name?”

“Bennigan,” Stiles told him. “She was human and from the Bennigan pack in Montana.”

“Yes,” Deaton said automatically, not having to think for a moment. “Though when I knew her, she called herself Kat. She and Talia were college roommates. Sophia was a couple of years older than you, right?”

“Yes,” Stiles answered, voice hitched. “Almost three years older.”

“Give me just a moment,” Deaton said and walked over to the filing cabinet. He opened a drawer and began rifling through the folders.

Stiles turned to face his children in the other room and laughed softly as he saw that all three of them were curled up with the kittens asleep on the floor. “Oh my god.”

“You okay?” Derek asked, wrapping his arm around Stiles’ waist.

Stiles huffed. “I should be asking you that.” He smiled softly. “But yeah, I’m all right. I can’t believe they fell asleep like that.”

Derek looked at the clock on the wall. “It is right at naptime, though I have to admit it’s surprising they would fall asleep when they could be playing with the kittens.”

“My dad said they stayed up late and woke up early,” Stiles told Derek. “They were probably exhausted.”  
“Okay,” Deaton announced and turned back toward them, a thick manila folder in his hand. He opened it and began flipping through and then stopped. “This contains a list of all the formal meetings the Hale pack had during the year that Sophia would have been conceived.” He took out two pieces of paper that were stapled together and handed it to Derek. “Find the meeting with the Bennigan pack while I look to see if there’s anything else relevant,”

“She would’ve been conceived in late May to early June,” Stiles said, looking at the long list covering the first part of the year.

Derek flipped to the next page and immediately found it. “It says, **May 14, Bennigan Pack: Montana hosts Hale Pack: Beacon Hills. Purpose: Blessing.** There’s another one,” Derek pointed out right below that line. **June 30, Hale Pack: Beacon Hills hosts Bennigan Alpha and family.** There is no purpose listed.”

“It was likely for the same reason as to why they visited Montana,” Deaton said. “Inviting another pack to your territory for a blessing of a new child is a way of showing trust and honoring your ties with that pack. Your mother thought highly of them and invited them to do the same.” 

“For Cora,” Derek said. “She was born that year in June.”

“That’s right,” Deaton said.

“Shouldn’t they have listed Rosewood too if Katherine was there?” Stiles asked.

“All these years I had forgotten that Kat and Sophia’s mother, Katherine, were the same woman until you said Bennigan,” he admitted. “Kat was already married to Marcus, but because he was not the Rosewood Alpha, it was not customary to list the name of that pack in the official documents and she was not the reason for the Blessing.”

“Her sister had lost her mate, so Kat left Sacramento and stayed for a couple of months in Montana. Is there a way to know if Colin Hale went to Montana too?”

“He probably would have,” Derek guessed. “At the very least, he would’ve been at Cora’s blessing.”

“We don’t need to guess if he was in Montana,” Deaton said and took out another sheaf of papers. “Colin was your mother’s second, Derek. She may have met with other packs’ members in an unofficial capacity without him, but those would not be listed. She was pregnant, so there’s no way she would’ve been without him and your father. This shows that Kat came to Cora’s Blessing.”

“What is that?” Stiles asked, looking at the papers in Derek’s hand.

“It’s a list of the people who attended the blessing and the rituals performed during the week for my family,” Derek said, a little breathless. “I thought I knew all about our traditions, but I’ve completely forgot about this.” 

“So that puts the timing right,” Stiles said. “Kat was definitely around Colin during the time she got pregnant and was not in Sacramento or anywhere near the man who is actually listed as her father on her birth certificate.”

“We can’t know that for sure,” Deaton said. “It isn’t as though Sacramento is far from Beacon Hills. She may have gone home to her pack in between these two times.”

“Not according to my sources,” Stiles said. Showing the photos Wyatt had sent him was one thing, but he felt uncomfortable telling Deaton exactly how he came to see them. “I saw photos of birth certificates that were altered,” he told Deaton. “One of them listed Colin Hale as the father, but was not signed by him. The other listed a man by the name of Jeffrey Lawson.”

“The feral omega,” Deaton said, taking back the papers from Derek and putting them into the folder. “I know the story. He’s the only blood spilled on Rosewood land for nearly a century. There’s no way he was Sophia’s father. That happened almost a year before this,” he said, shaking the folder. “The Rosewood’s Emissary at the time was a good friend of mine.”

“At the time?” Stiles asked. He’d met their current Emissary, Clyde Howell. The man was in his late fifties, so Stiles had thought he’d always been their Emissary.

“Paul was Brogan’s mother’s Emissary, but after she passed Brogan was adamant about wanting to be assigned a different one. He stated that he didn’t mesh with Paul, and a few months later Paul found placement with another pack and the Emissary he has now was brought in. It was the same year Sophia was conceived and I visited Paul with his new pack that October for a harvest celebration. He said there had been a lot of tension in the Rosewood pack and that Alpha Brogan was keeping a lot of things from him. One of the best ways to have a successful relationship between an Alpha and an Emissary is for there to be full transparency.”

Stiles and Derek shared a disbelieving look. Now was not the time to critique Deaton on that front.

“Maybe Brogan and Marcus doubted Paul would go along with covering up who Sophia’s father was,” Stiles said. “All of this, it is still speculation,” he went on. “Do you remember anything about Colin being with Kat? Anything at all?”

“I know that they were friendly,” Deaton recalled. “Colin was a second, so he was almost always by Talia’s side, particularly when another pack was around and you would notice when he was not. If he and Kat stole moments alone, I didn’t know about it. I can also tell you this, Colin did not know about Katherine becoming pregnant with his child and neither did Talia or any of the other Hales. No matter what it would’ve done to their relationship with the Rosewoods, it wouldn’t have mattered to them. They would have wanted the child to know them, no matter the cost.”

“We need to know,” Derek said and looked back to the room with the sleeping children and kittens. “I love them,” he said passionately. “I barely remember my Uncle Colin, but if it’s possible that they’re Hales and that a part of him is still living on inside of them, I would like to know.”

Stiles hugged Derek tightly with his arm around his waist. “Deaton, Peter said that you could perform a test on the kids to see if they are Hales.”

Deaton nodded at Stiles but then looked at Derek. “I’ll need you to give me some of your blood.” He walked over to his cabinet and produced a small plastic cup and then handed it to Derek. “A couple of drops will do.”

Derek’s fingers quickly turned into claws and he used his thumb to slice the side of his pointer finger and a couple of drops of blood dripped into the container before his natural healing took over and closed the small cut. “Do we need the children’s blood too?” he asked in a worried tone, handing the cup back to Deaton.

“They are siblings, so they will all carry the same blood. We only need blood from one of them,” Deaton said.

“They’re sleeping,” Stiles protested, though he knew that the test would likely require obtaining some of their blood, he was hesitant to wake either of them up to collect it. It would be a terrible wake-up call. “I know that they heal quickly, but you should’ve seen how frightened they all are any time they’ve gotten vaccines.”

“You get them vaccinated?” Derek asked. He was caught off guard by this because as far as he knew, Stiles took them to their pediatrician to get regular check-ups and that was it. Werewolves did not need to be vaccinated against diseases because they never contract or spread diseases. The only time he’d ever heard of werewolves getting sick were from poisons and virus specifically made to target them.

“Of course,” Stiles said. “Sophia said that it wouldn’t affect them and it’s much easier to have them on record when putting them in daycare or school. She said her family always did that because they went to public schools.”

“But they heal so fast,” Derek said. “Don’t the doctors notice that?”

“You’ve never had a shot of any kind?” Stiles asked, a little amused.

“I’ve had a couple,” Derek said. “But those were for werewolf related things.”

“A prick of a needle or even a couple of them on a human heals pretty quickly too,” Stiles informed Derek. “The doctors are usually pretty quick about putting band-aids on, so they don’t even notice that it heals completely. How exactly did your family get by not being vaccinated and still attending public schools?”

“We were homeschooled until high school, if we chose to go to public school,” Derek told him. “My parents knew our primary care doctor, who usually forged the papers saying we had them all whenever we were supposed to.” He turned to Deaton and asked, “Is it really safe for them to get vaccines?”

“Perfectly safe,” Deaton assured. “It’s just like when you drink alcohol, it has no affect whatsoever because your body’s biology trumps the harmful substance from affecting you.”

“My parents didn’t know this?” Derek asked.

“I’m sure they did,” Deaton answered. “It was probably easier for them though to not make you get vaccines if they had a way to alter your records. Now, let’s get going with the test. If we’re lucky, they’ll remain asleep until we’re done.”

“Okay,” Stiles said, but still felt uncertain.

“I won’t let them feel the pain,” Derek said. “Arek is the heaviest sleeper, right?”

“Yeah,” Stiles answered.

“Then we’ll use his blood.”

Deaton procured a small needle from its sanitary wrapping and handed it to Derek. “It will just take a couple of drops.” He then handed Stiles an empty cup like the one they’d used for Derek’s blood.

Derek and Stiles went into the room with the kittens and children. A couple of the animals perked up when they walked in, but made no move to vacate their comfortable spots curled around the children. Derek crouched beside Arek who way laying face down on his belly, one hand pillowed under his cheek. Derek picked up his free hand and Stiles put the cup under it, looking away as Derek pricked Arek’s finger.

“Okay,” Derek whispered. He’d barely had to use his ability to take Arek’s pain because it had been so minimal and the little boy didn’t even stir in his sleep.

Stiles looked back and took Arek’s hand in his own, examining it and finding no evidence of the needle and Arek looked as content as he had been when they walked in. He kissed Arek’s fingers before placing his hand back on the floor and then followed Derek out of the room and back into the exam room where Deaton waited. “That’s enough, right?” Stiles asked, handing Deaton the cup.

“Perfect,” Deaton said. He took permanent marker out of a cabinet drawer and wrote the letter A on it and then brought it over to the exam table in the center of the room. The cup with Derek’s blood sat on the table marked with a letter D; next to it was a jar of some sort with ground up powder Stiles couldn’t recognize, a small Petri dish, a spoon and two small pipettes. 

“What exactly do you have to do for the test?” Stiles asked, walking closer to the table. “And what’s that powder?”

“You’ll see,” Deaton said and unscrewed the cap on the white powder.

Derek put his hand on the small of Stiles' back as he walked up beside him. He immediately identified the granulated power. “That’s Alum.”

“It is,” Deaton said and gave Derek a smile.

“Oh, I remember my mom used that when she made pickles,” Stiles said.

“Why are you using it?” Derek asked Deaton. He’d only heard of it being used in place of an aftershave.

“Alum is a wonderful clotting agent,” Deaton explained. He picked up the small spoon and scooped out some of the powder.

“And that’s useful why?” Stiles asked.

“You’ll see,” Deaton said once again.

Stiles rolled his eyes and watched as Deaton placed a tiny mound of Alum granules in the center of the Petri dish. Deaton then picked up one of the pipettes, sucked up some of Derek’s blood and then placed it directly on top of the Alum. As soon as the substances touched, a tiny spark of red light emitted from the drop of the blood. “What the hell?” he asked Derek, “If you eat that and then get cut, will your blood glow?”

Derek laughed. “I doubt it.”

“Actually,” Deaton said. “It would glow, like this is, for a very short time. The glow from his Alpha spark has nothing to do with the test; it’s just an added side-effect to the test.” He used the other pipette to procure some of Arek’s blood and hovered it to the pepper mound. “This test wouldn’t work with wolves that are many generations apart, but we know that wouldn’t be the case with Arek’s blood if Sophia is in fact Derek’s cousin.”

“Okay, so the clotting agent will separate Derek’s blood from Arek’s if they’re not related?” Stiles guessed.

“This method is a little backward, actually,” Deaton told him. “It will do the opposite. The clotting agent will separate them if they are kin. If they are not, the blood will merge together as one large drop. The faster the separation, the closer they are. It will be rather obvious. Are you both ready?”

“Yes,” Derek and Stiles answered together.

Deaton squeezed the dropper directly on top of the drop of Derek’s blood and Arek’s blood had a golden hue to it as it perched on the ball underneath it for a second, before jolting away into the part of the dish without the Alum.

“They’re Hales,” Derek whispered.

“They…” Whatever Stiles was going to say was caught off in a gasp as he saw Arek’s drop of blood begin to move on its own, circling the mound of Alum at a rapid pace. “Is that normal?” he asked, looking up at Deaton.

Deaton placed the pipette still in his hand onto the table and then folded his arms across his chest. He looked up and had a smug grin on his face. “In this case, yes.”

“What does that even mean?” Stiles asked. Was there something wrong with Arek’s blood?

“Derek, you didn’t suspect that Arek was somehow related to you when he was born?” Deaton asked.

Derek blinked in shock. “What? Why would I suspect that?”

“He is who you are going to pass your Alpha spark, your powers to, isn’t he?”

“What?” Stiles shrieked and turned to face Derek. “My son, my tiny little boy is who you’ve chosen…”

“It isn’t a choice, not really,” Derek said. “You know that. I’m sure Wyatt and Sophia and any other wolf you’ve talked to from any other pack with a born wolf as their Alpha has told you the same thing. You don’t choose, you just know and if you have to make a choice for some reason, it means your bond with your pack isn’t a strong one, or because the first choice died.” Like Laura died, went unsaid.

“Whoa!” Stiles waved his arms around. “Wait a minute. You’re right, I do know about this stuff and… and… How did you not suspect that Arek, that Sophia, was related to you? An Alpha usually knows who the next Alpha is supposed to be at most a year or so after they’re born and they’re always blood relation.”

“No,” Derek defended, angry that Stiles would dare to think he would have information like that and not tell him about it. “My mother taught us that it goes to family, she never said blood relation. Yes, the first time I held Arek I knew that he was the one I would pass the spark to, but I thought…”

“That was the day he was born,” Stiles said, exasperated. “You’ve known this since the day he was born and didn’t tell me?”

“If I can cut in,” Deaton said to Stiles. “Alphas rarely tell anyone until the child is old enough to begin training. Stiles, Derek is right, Talia did teach her pack that the sparks went to family…”

“But I wasn’t family,” Stiles said. “Arek wasn’t family. Didn’t you think that was weird?”

“In hindsight, yes,” Derek told him. “At the time I thought that maybe me and you being so close, being like family was enough. I even thought that maybe you were my mate, but something had gone wrong and because you were mated to Sophia, instead I got Arek to be like my…”

“Padawan,” Stiles supplied, snorting.

“I was going to say son,” Derek said softly. “When I found out that it was highly possible you were my mate, that the feeling I’d always had that you were my mate were probably right, it made more sense to me. You and I were meant to be together, to be married, and to truly be a family so of course that would officially make Arek my son. I didn’t know a damn thing about Sophia being my uncle’s child until you brought it up!”

Stiles stepped up to Derek and cautiously wrapped his arms around his waist and rested his head against his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have even questioned that.”

Derek slightly relaxed and rubbed his hand up and down Stiles’ back. “I may have hidden my feelings for you and I may not have told you that you were my mate, but that was because I wanted you to experience life first, you were so young. Then I wanted to give you time to heal and I needed to protect you from myself. I have never lied to you.”

“I know,” Stiles said. “I’m sorry.”

“Forgiven,” Derek replied and tipped Stiles’ chin up to kiss him.

Deaton cleared his throat. “I believe your children are beginning to wake up and you may want to continue that tonight when you, Derek, will hopefully allow Stiles to heal you?”

“Yes,” Derek replied in a throaty tone. “If Stiles is ready to do that.”

“I am.” Stiles separated himself from Derek and looked through the glass window. Klaudia was standing and staring at them, her thumb in her mouth and her other hand waving at him. He looked back at Derek and pecked him on the lips. “Thanks for your help, Deaton. Let’s go round the little Stilinski slash Hales up and get home.” Stiles gave Deaton a wave and walked out of the room.

“Thank you, Deaton,” Derek said, voice shaky from the impact of Stiles’ easily spoken words.

Deaton looked over his shoulder from where he was cleaning the supplies at the sink. “Any time. Please let me know when the mating ceremony is going to take place and if there’s anything you need help with. It’s been a long time since I’ve gotten to officiate for a Hale wedding. I think the last one was…”

“Mathew and Bailey’s wedding,” Derek said. He remembered his older brother’s wedding to his mate very well. Bailey had been from the Bernum pack of Louisiana. They were a very old and very large pack and had many wedding traditions to incorporate into the mating ceremony along with the Hale ones. It had been a huge, clusterfuck of an affair, but he had felt extremely honored to be his brother’s best man, even though he’d only been thirteen at the time. Cora's wedding ceremony to Isaac and Peter's to Brianna included very little of the Hale traditions, and both took place at the courthouse as per their wishes. Derek was looking forward to going through the details and planning of his wedding to Stiles, but first… First Stiles and he had to discuss the marriage and he still wasn’t sure that Stiles was ready to do that, even if he was ready to heal his wounds. “I’ll let you know,” Derek told Deaton.

“Good luck, Alpha Hale,” Deaton said in a truly respectful tone that surprised Derek. “He’s more ready than you realize, don’t second-guess him.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Derek told him.

To Be Continued in Chapter Twelve


	13. Chapter Twelve: "Kindred"

_“Maybe it's not about the length of time you've known someone; maybe it's about instant recognition on an unconscious level. Our souls know each other.”_ ~ S.E. Hall

“Shit!” Derek dropped the knife and cucumber he’d been holding and drew his left forefinger up to his mouth. He sucked away the blood from his wound and when he drew his hand back, the cut was already healed. This was the third injury he’d acquired in the last five minutes while trying to cut a single cucumber. You’d think that after the first time, Derek would have turned himself away from the kitchen window and paid attention to what he was doing. It was just too hard though, giving up watching Stiles on his hands and knees in the garden, all three children beside him, listening with rapt attention as he showed them what vegetables to pick. Even from a distance, Derek could see specks of dirt on Stiles’ cheek, down his neck and all over his shirt.

Derek closed his eyes and counted to ten while he took a deep breath for each count. He could feel his instincts flaring to life, threatening to overwhelm all other thoughts in his brain. He focused on Stiles and what he meant to him and slowly Derek felt the rising tide of arousal abate. He opened his eyes once again and glanced outside. Now, Stiles was standing up, holding a large wicker basket. The children were throwing dirt-laden vegetables into the basket, spraying dirt all over Stiles as they did and he was laughing uproariously. Derek knew that he really needed to finish chopping the cucumber before they brought more vegetables in for him to clean, cut and add to their salad, but he couldn’t find it in him to do so. He really doubted he’d get used to this being his life anytime soon.

It had only been two weeks since they’d begun sharing a bed, Stiles falling asleep on his side, only to be covering Derek’s body by the time morning came. Fourteen equally blissful and torturous days and nights with him being allowed to touch Stiles and let his eyes rest on him without having to look away in fear of his gaze being noticed. A fortnight of playing Alpha Prowl in the backyard after sunset with Danika, Arek and Klaudia, just as he’d done with his family when he was little. It was scary and warming all at once to know for certain that the kids were now his children too, and along with Stiles, they were not only his pack, but also his family.

As good as all of that was, there was still a big elephant in the room with them and though it usually disappeared throughout the day, it was right there between them when they were alone in bed.

The day they’d returned from Deaton’s, Derek had been ready to allow Stiles to see all of the marks he’d made and to touch them so they could be removed. After they’d had dinner, given the children baths and put them to bed, they wound up in their bedroom at the same time and Stiles asked Derek if they could shower together. Derek didn’t know if it was all the stress from the weekend, the surprise surge of need he felt, or maybe a combination of them both, but within seconds he’d transformed to his beta form and crowded Stiles up against the bedroom door. It had only lasted a second, the uncontrollable desire to claim, and Derek immediately propelled himself away from Stiles, shifting back and grasping onto his humanity, yet it’d been enough of a scare to stop him from letting Stiles cure his wounds.

Stiles had protested, of course. He’d told Derek that he liked it, that he enjoyed knowing that he was the cause for Derek’s unrestrained desire. Shaking with anger toward himself, Derek bolted into the bathroom, locked the door and took a long cold shower. When he came out, Stiles was in bed, his Kindle open on his chest, his eyes closed in slumber. Derek barely allowed himself to get close enough to Stiles to take the Kindle from him and put it on the nightstand. He carefully crawled into bed, not wanting to wake Stiles and have the conversation he knew Stiles would want to have. He laid as far away from him as he could and fell asleep to the sound of Stiles’ heartbeat. The next morning Stiles’ body had been draped over his own, and Derek had thought Stiles would immediately want to talk when he woke, but he hadn’t. He had just kissed the side of Derek’s mouth and slipped out of bed.

They hadn’t talked about it since and surprising to Derek, it didn’t seem to matter. He hadn’t felt the feral lust rise within him again until today. Sure, he constantly wanted Stiles, but it was more of a simmering ache as opposed to an all-consuming one. The days and nights passed and each one was better than the last. They had been the best of friends before Sophia died and they were finally falling back into that same kind of relationship once again, only with the added bonus of gentle kisses, touches and secretive smiles.

Derek wanted more than that and he knew that if he was going to ever have it, Stiles and he would have to talk about their future and he’d have to trust himself to let Stiles heal him. He couldn’t run from his feelings anymore and he needed to know for sure how Stiles felt about him.

  
~*~

Stiles and the kids were all covered in dirt as they came inside the house.

“Take everything off here,” Stiles told the kids and placed the basket full of vegetables on top of the dryer.

“I don’ wanna bath,” Arek groaned.

“I do,” Danika, pulling her t-shirt over her head. “I’m grrrrros!”

“Baf time,” Klaudia said with excitement, clapping her hands together, the mud on them making a sticky squishy noise.

Stiles unhooked Arek’s overalls, a feat to accomplish with the strong little boy squirming. “Your sisters want to take baths,” Stiles told him. “Be good.”

“I’s gonna make dinner wif Affa,” Arek whined and stomped his dirty bare feet.

“And you can do that,” Stiles said. “After a bath. Nobody wants to eat dirt.”

“Klaudia likes dirt,” Danika said, now stripped to her underwear. “See, Daddy.”

Stiles laughed at the glare Klaudia was giving her big sister, a look that was made even more adorable by the dirt all over her face and the mud covered finger she was chewing on, emphasizing Danika’s point. He moved her finger out of her mouth and asked, “Did your finger taste good.”

“Uh-huh,” Klaudia said and popped it back into her mouth.

“So, you like eating dirt?” Stiles asked, helping her get undressed.

“No!” Klaudia now glared at him. “Feggies.”

Stiles took her hand out of her mouth again and looked at it. “No, I don’t think I see any veggies still on your hand. Just mud, okay?”

Klaudia grinned, her teeth covered in it. “Yummy feggies.”

“Oh,” Stiles said, getting it. “You ate all the veggies already?”

“Uh-huh,” Klaudia said, nodding emphatically.

Danika and Arek both laughed at their little sister.

“Okay. But you’re still eating vegetables at dinner,” he told her.

“K,” Klaudia answered, clearly unperturbed.

Arek made a break for the door leading to the kitchen, but Stiles caught him. “Uh-uh, buster. We’re going up the back stairs, you are not getting dirt all over the house.”

“No!” Arek said, his nearly naked body making it impossible for Stiles to hold on to.

“If we get it dirty, Derek’s not gonna want us to live here!” Danika shouted at Arek.

Arek immediately stilled and looked up at Stiles with wide glassy eyes.

“That's not true,” Stiles said immediately. “There's not anything we could do that would make Derek not want us here. He loves us.”

“Mommy left,” Danika said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Mama?” Klaudia whimpered.

“Shit,” Stiles spoke under his breath and bent down to pick up Klaudia. “It’s okay, kiddo.”

“K?” Klaudia whimpered. “Mama?”

“Yes, it’s okay,” Stiles told Klaudia, at a loss as to what would actually help how she felt. He knew what it was like to lose a mother, but he didn’t know what it was like to be so young when it happened. He hated that he couldn’t ask Klaudia what she remembered of Sophia or if it was more of a feeling that she was missing her.

The door to the kitchen opened and Derek came in, a smile on his face, but Stiles could tell it was forced. “Did you guys pick a lot of vegetables?” he asked in a happy tone.

“Feggies,” Klaudia chirped, her attention now on Derek and happier thoughts.

Derek looked into the basket and took out a large carrot. “Did you pick this, Klaudia?”

“Uh-huh,” Klaudia said.

“She didn’t,” Danika huffed. “Daddy did.”

“But she helped me,” Stiles said and rolled his eyes at Danika. “Klaudia’s a good helper.”

“Would you like some help getting them up to the bath?” Derek asked.

“Yeah, that’d be great. Arek doesn’t want to take one because he wants to make dinner with you.”

Derek picked up Arek and put him on his hip. “Buddy, I told you that you’d help me tonight. You can have your bath and then we’ll make dinner, okay?”

“Okay,” Arek said softly.

“Up!” Danika demanded positioning herself right next to Derek’s leg for emphasis.

“You’re lucky I have werewolf strength,” Derek said, grinning at her as he picked her up with his free arm.

“I just hope you have werewolf balance as well,” Stiles said, following behind Derek as they approached the staircase.

“They have werewolf healing if I don’t,” Derek teased, looking over his shoulder at Stiles.

“I promise you that joke got old when Danika began crawling,” Stiles said. “In fact, I think the joke got old…” Stiles’ words were completely taken from him, his mind replaced with thoughts of the beauty in front of his eyes. Derek’s ass as he climbed each step was mesmerizing. It was stupidly perfect and the way his thin shorts moved over his ass, stretching and allowing the outline of his briefs to show…

“Stiles,” Derek said, stopping at the top of the stairs and staring down at him.

Stiles hadn’t moved from the first step. “Uh, what?”

“Are you coming?” Derek asked.

Stiles blinked. “What!”

“Upstairs,” Derek said slowly, “to give the kids a bath.”

Stiles shook himself out of his daze. “Yes, of course.” He hurried up the stairs and as he reached the top, he saw a hint of a teasing smile on Derek’s face.

Derek snickered, “You’re so easy.”

“Why?” Danika asked, wiggling in Derek’s arms.

“Let’s get you guys in the bath,” Stiles announced, brushing past Derek and deliberately shaking his ass as he walked. Two could play at that game. “Derek can help you while I go take a nice, long hot shower.”

“Stiles,” Derek growled under his breath.

“What?” Stiles asked. “I’m dirty too.”

After a nice hot shower, where Stiles absolutely jerked off to thoughts of Derek’s ass and all the things he wanted to do to it, he dressed and found Derek and the kids downstairs setting the table. The scene was one he’d gotten used to since they’d been living with Derek, but for some reason, this time as he watched Derek directing Danika and Arek on where to place the silverware, Klaudia on his hip babbling out her own gibberish orders, it felt different to him. A tension he hadn’t exactly known was there released from inside of Stiles and he found himself leaning up against the wall to the dining room, taking them all in.

“You okay?” Derek asked, looking over at him.

“Yeah,” Stiles croaked.

Derek looked concerned. “Stiles…”

Stiles pushed off the wall and walked over to Derek. He didn’t even think about what he was doing, it was like his body was moving on its own accord. He placed his hand on the back of Derek’s neck and brought their mouths together. The kiss started off slow, two deep kisses with just a little tongue and then his body, which had been sated only minutes before, heated up.

“Daddy!” Klaudia squealed and batted Stiles’ face.

Stiles pulled himself away, absolutely reluctant to be separated from Derek. Holding the man’s red gaze with his own as he took two steps backward. “Jesus, Derek…” He wasn’t going to apologize, no, but he probably wouldn’t have done it if he’d known kissing Derek would’ve made him feel like there were firecrackers going off within him.

Danika’s giggles broke their stare. “You kissed!”

Stiles looked at his oldest daughter, who had one hand over her mouth as she laughed at them. “We did.” He and Derek had kissed before in front of the kids. They’d only been pecks, but he figured she didn’t think anything of them kissing since she hadn’t mentioned it then.

“Why?” Danika asked. “Why’d you kiss Derek, Daddy?”

“Because I love him,” Stiles said, before he could think about it. Then again, maybe that was for the best.

“Oh,” Danika said and looked to be pondering it for a moment before she simply went back to her task of putting forks on the table.

Stiles looked over at Arek and saw his son wasn’t even paying attention. Apparently he didn’t care that they’d been kissing. Still, this was only further evidence to Stiles that not only did he and Derek need to have a long overdue conversation, but he needed to have one with the kids as well. He had explained to them that they would be living with Derek and he’d unpacked their things for them in their own bedrooms, told them that he and Derek were going to have sleepovers together and that had been enough... then. He should’ve known that with his precocious daughter it wouldn’t remain that way. There wasn’t a lot he needed to tell them, because they wouldn’t understand much of Derek and his relationship beyond words like ‘marriage’, if that. Still, he needed to let them know what it was and what they planned for in the future. The trouble was, Stiles wasn’t exactly sure about what it was himself.

“Stiles,” Derek said his name with a tone of worry in his voice.

Stiles turned to face Derek and raised one of his eyebrows. “I’m okay. We need to talk later though.” He smiled and asked, “What can I do to help?”

Derek gave him an odd indecipherable look and handed Klaudia to him. “Get Klaudia in her highchair and I’ll bring the food out.”

“Okay.” Stiles made sure to touch Derek’s arm and give it a reassuring squeeze before he took Klaudia from him, but Derek didn’t seem to be affected by the gesture. 

It was going to be a long dinner.

  
~*~

Stiles nervously wrung his hands and paced the floor of the bedroom as he waited for Derek to emerge from the bathroom. He’d rehearsed what he was going to say about a million times during their awkward dinner, the first that had been that way since he’d found out that he and Derek were mates. He’d also thought a lot about what he wanted and exactly how he felt about their future and his own answers to the questions that he wanted to ask Derek.

The door to the bathroom opened and Stiles stopped in place. “Hey.”

Derek stood in the doorway, dressed in a t-shirt and boxers, the same way that he’d been dressed for bed since they'd started sharing a bed. “Hey,” he replied after a long pause.

“So we need to talk,” Stiles said and held his hands up. “I know you don’t want to. I know that having conversations is like your kryptonite or something, but…”

“I know we need to talk Stiles,” Derek said over his ramblings. “I’m not an idiot.”

“I didn’t say you were,” Stiles huffed and sat down on the edge of the bed and patted the space beside him. “Come here.”

Derek rolled his eyes at him. “Are you calling me like I’m a dog?”

Stiles groaned. “No, absolutely not.”

Derek laughed a little and sat down beside Stiles. “So?”

“First off, I know you heard what the kids said when we came in from the garden.”

“I talked to them about that when I gave them their bath.”

“You what? I mean, what did you say?”

“I just reiterated what you said. I told them that I love them and that you guys were going to live here from now on.”

“Right,” Stiles said. “That’s good.”

“But?”

“No buts, just more of an and… Cause of me kissing you and like I know that they’re still little and they have no idea what a mating bond is…”

“You’re saying you kissed me because of the mating bond?”

“Not just that,” Stiles said. “I mean, you know that I want to kiss you like all the fucking time all right and I wanted to do that before I knew about the mating bond. I know that it's not some weird force causing me to do something I don’t want to do, all right?”

“Okay,” Derek said, sounding relieved.

“The ‘and’ is more of a, we need to explain to them about us. They need to know that we’re planning on getting married.”

“Being mated,” Derek said.

“Yes, you know what I mean,” Stiles said. “They know that you love them and I know you love them. I feel like they see you as their other dad, I know I do, but I want them to know that in an official way. But I want to know what you think about that before I start calling you ‘dad’ to them or…”

“Dad?” Derek asked in a whispery breath. “You want them to call me Dad?”

“If that’s what you want,” Stiles said. “I know they refer to you as Alpha a lot of the time, but I also know you didn’t only call your mother that. Cora said you usually called her Mom, or Mommy when you were little. Alpha was reserved for when you were addressing her during training or official gatherings.”

“That’s true,” Derek said and gave Stiles a wide, dazzlingly smile. “If you’re comfortable with it, and they are too; I don’t want to force them to call me Dad unless they want to.”

“I honestly don’t know how Danika will take it,” Stiles said. “She’s a freaking teenager trapped in a toddler’s body or something. Arek and Klaudia will probably want to call you that. So, if you’re going to be their Dad, then they should probably know that we’re more than friends. They should know we’re mates and that we’re going to get married. When are we going to do that?”

“Are you asking me to marry you?” Derek asked, voice wavering.

Stiles wanted to marry Derek. He wanted them to claim one another. He wanted to touch him, to heal Derek’s wounds and so much more. “I’m asking if you want to be my mate? If you want me to claim you?”

Derek put his hands over his face and grumbled, “God, Stiles.” He dropped his hands and stared at Stiles with a wonder-filled expression. “You’re serious, right? You’ve thought about this and it isn’t just because you want to have a way to explain our kissing…”

“Don’t even go there,” Stiles warned. “I may do a lot of sporadic things, but this is not one of them. Derek, you aren’t the only one that’s been in love with their mate for a decade, all right?” Stiles felt his heart racing as he spoke the words he’d been unsure he’d be able to say only minutes before. It might’ve been the look on Derek’s face that gave him the courage, whatever it was, they were out there now and he didn’t want to take them back.

Derek twisted himself so that he faced Stiles completely and pulled him against his chest, smooching his face into Stiles’ neck. “I want you so bad. I want to claim you and I want you to claim me.”

Stiles leaned back and looked up at Derek, feeling like he was going to vibrate out of his body from the intense emotions he felt for the man before him. “Is that a yes to my unorthodox proposal then?”

Derek’s hands ran up through Stiles hair pressing their foreheads together. “Are you sure? There's no rush, Stiles. I told you before. I can wait.”

“There’s no need,” Stiles said, voice shaking as he wrapped his arms around Derek’s waist. “I want this. I’ve thought about this constantly the last couple of weeks and I keep asking myself why I’m waiting, making us wait and I just can’t come up with a reason. I love you, you’re a wonderful Dad to my children and you love me. You actually fucking love me for some reason I can’t figure out.”

“There are plenty of them,” Derek said, laughing, fingers crawling down Stiles’ neck to his back. “So, so, so many.”

“We’re going to do it?” Stiles asked. “We’ll have a mating ceremony?”

“Yes,” Derek said it like a promise. “I want that.”

“On one condition.” Stiles drew back and felt a little bad for the disappointed look he saw in Derek’s beautiful eyes. “I want to heal your wounds. I want you to trust yourself and to trust me as your anchor.”

“That’s your condition?” Derek breathed out and grabbed Stiles by his arm. He pulled him so hard that Stiles had to scramble not to fall off the side of the bed and instead fell onto Derek, pushing him so they were both horizontal on the bed.

“Yes,” Stiles said, bracing himself on his elbows. He kissed a line up Derek’s throat to just under his earlobe, pausing to lick at the skin there for a moment. “My only condition is that I want you to let me touch you.” He moved so that he straddled Derek’s legs and gripped the hem of his shirt. “Everywhere.”

Derek’s Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed around his reply, “Okay.”

  
~*~

Derek hated feeling vulnerable. He knew that every person on the planet probably hated it too, but for an Alpha werewolf who would forever be fucked up by his first two relationships, his dislike for being put in a vulnerable position was magnified. Stiles was his mate and Derek longed to claim him, so that worked in their favor of course, but it didn’t take away all of the unease he felt.

“Shh,” Stiles said. “You’re thinking too much.”

“Isn’t that supposed to be my line?” Derek asked. He meant for it to sound teasing, but his voice just sounded breathy. Weak.

Up until he’d discovered the marks on his skin, Derek hadn’t equated vulnerability with being naked. Stiles and every other adult in his pack had seen him transform into his full wolf form many times, which meant they’d seen him naked beforehand. Lying naked, Stiles still clothed beside him, was completely different. He was at the man’s mercy, both physically and mentally. He desperately wanted to see Stiles too, but he didn’t want to push things. The condition had been for Stiles to touch him, not the other way around.

Stiles moved to sit beside Derek and hovered his hand over the bite mark on his chest. “Derek, tell me how I did this to you.”

Derek looked away from Stiles’ eyes to where his hand was paused, feeling a small current of energy in the small space between Stiles’ hand and his chest. He looked back up at Stiles. “It’s going to upset you if we talk about it.”

“Another time,” Stiles amended. His cheeks flushed as he put his hand down over Derek’s heart fully. 

“Ahh!” Derek’s back bowed and pressed his chest more firmly against Stiles’ hand as he felt a cool current bloom where Stiles’ skin touched his own and he began to heal.

“Wow,” Stiles gasped.

Derek fell back on the bed and he grabbed Stiles’ wrist, moving it out of the way so he could see his chest. “You did it.” His skin looked as good as new.

Stiles grinned happily and shook his hand out of Derek’s grip before placing both of his hands over the wounds on Derek’s shoulders.

Derek’s body jerked in reaction once again. All this time he’d been worried that Stiles’ touch would feel purely sexual, but it didn’t. Yes, the sensation that activated his supernatural healing and adrenaline felt great, but he didn’t feel out of control, vulnerable yes, but not feral with desire. This was purely about Stiles healing him, taking care of him the way only a mate could. “Is this how it feels when I take away your pain?”

Stiles shrugged as his fingers skimmed down Derek’s chest, covering the marks that were obviously caused by his own fingernails and finding all the other places he was injured on his torso. “I don’t know if it’s the same. What does this feel like?”

Derek squirmed as many parts of his skin stitched itself back together at once. “It feels like there’s cool, swirling water under my skin, dissolving the pain and then it’s drawn out of each open space of skin. The adrenaline that’s normally within me when I heal is even more intense.”

“I don’t have an adrenaline spike,” Stiles said. “I usually get sleepy after someone takes my pain, but yeah the cool, swirling water is a good analogy.” He kissed across Derek’s chest, small little pecks where all the wounds had now disappeared. “Now for the others,” he said, sitting back again.

Derek looked down and saw the ones Stiles hadn’t even known about until Derek had taken his boxers off. There were fingernail lines starting from just below his hips down the tops of his thighs and behind them. They were so close to his groin, Derek knew that even if what was happening was not sexual, he would definitely be hard the moment Stiles touched him anywhere near his cock.

“You’re fucking beautiful. It’s not fair.”

“Do you want me to stroke your ego and tell you that you’re beautiful, too?” Derek garbled the words out as Stiles’ palms moved over his thighs, making them shake.

“Sure, it won’t hurt.” Stiles smirked. “Turn over.”

Derek complied and turned onto his belly. He knew there were some marks on the backs of his thighs and deep horizontal ones on his back. He heard Stiles whimper a little as he saw them for the first time up close. “I can’t believe I did this to you! I must’ve been out of my mind, Derek. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“You were out of your mind,” Derek said, words muffled into his pillow. “Some of them are probably more my fault than yours.”

Stiles’ hands stilled on their journey up Derek’s thighs. “That can’t be true.”

“I held onto you when you wanted me to let you go. I... I shouldn’t have restrained you the way I did.”

“I remember the way my hands looked the next morning. It was probably a good thing you did restrain me or I could’ve hurt myself more.”

“Maybe,” Derek relented. “I trust that you’ll never do anything like it again and I knew that at the time, too. The next time you mark me will be on purpose, because you want me… want to claim me.” He wiggled his body on the cool blue sheets, tilting his ass up a little and having no idea how sexy the small motion actually was. “Come on, keep healing me.”

Stiles sucked in a shuddering breath and let his hands splay over the deep scratches, keeping them over the skin even as he felt it healing beneath his fingertips. There was something intensely powerful about being able to heal an Alpha werewolf, but even more so because it was the man he loved. “Why is it that I can heal you with a touch now, but I didn’t when I made the marks? My hands must’ve touched some of the injuries after I made them.”

“I don’t know,” Derek said, feeling a little drunk with all the dopamine that Stiles’ touch was coaxing his brain to emit. “I didn’t even know about this, remember? It's probably about intent.”

“Yeah,” Stiles breathed out, eyes transfixed on Derek’s ass. It was easily the most gorgeous ass in the world. Encased in jeans, it was a thing of beauty that had been a feature _asset_ in his teenage jerk-off fantasies. Now that it was bare before his eyes, and he had permission to both look and touch, well Stiles really couldn’t stop himself from gazing at it and imagining all the things he wanted to do to that ass. He doubted anyone would blame him for leaning forward and licking a long stripe from the side of one ass cheek to the next.

“Stiles!” Derek shouted and bucked his hips.

Stiles reared back and fell to the side of Derek’s body. Okay, so maybe he didn’t exactly have permission to touch it with his tongue? “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” he stammered. “I just…”

“Want to drive me out of my mind with lust?” Derek asked, face completely buried in the pillow, words sounding lispy the way they did when he talked while wolfed out.

“Uh, no?” Stiles corrected himself, “I mean, no. No. I don’t want to cause you to lose control and be wolfy if you don’t want to be. I don’t mind it though. Not at all.”

Derek, surprising Stiles, chuckled and then flipped over so that he rested on his side, one hand supporting his head. His facial features weren’t ‘wolfy’ anymore and his fangs were nowhere in sight, but his irises were still Alpha-red. “I can smell you. I knew about that,” his eyes flickered down to Stiles’ crotch and then back up to his face and he grinned devilishly, “even before you were completely hard.”

“Oh.” Stiles put one hand over his erection and the other over his face. “I’m sorry.”

Derek’s quick reflexes had him kneeling a second later and he pulled Stiles’ hand away from his face. “Deaton was right,” he said.

Stiles blinked and motioned to Derek’s body as if to say, ‘you’re all healed’. “I know.”

“Not just about the healing,” Derek said, looming even closer to Stiles. “I want you naked, now.”

“Oh, uhm, okay,” Stiles said slowly. Stiles had only been naked with one other person, his wife, a woman who he’d loved and desired. Sophia may not have liked romantic gestures, but she’d also never called what they did ‘fucking’ and she wasn’t one for build-up. She always used the words ‘lovemaking’ or ‘sex’ and it was always, always slow and sweet. For the first year of their marriage, Stiles constantly fought with his body, trying to slow down and not go too fast, wanting to just lose himself and fuck as hard and fast as he could. Instead, he figured out what she needed and he let her body and words guide him. She hadn’t been a virgin, and so he relied on her to show him what would be enjoyable for them both, and Stiles without a doubt enjoyed having sex with her and they’d had a lot of hot sex together. Having absolutely no other sexual escapades to compare their sex to, and his duty of pleasing Sophia each time met, Stiles thought their sex-life was perfect.

Stiles hadn’t known, not really, how his body would actually react to being in such close proximity to Derek in a semi-sexual situation. Sure, he’d imagined it hundreds of times, but now, here he was, not even touching Derek and the desire he felt was maddening. His heart was racing, his blood was thrumming in his veins and he had this yearning need to just plaster himself to Derek’s body. It wasn’t even about the actual act of sex, or the end result, he was so fucking turned on by just being beside him.

When he managed to completely undress, the sight of Derek’s gorgeous body egging him on, he had to wipe away the drool that had collected in the corners of his mouth. “Uhm, is this what he was right about? You being able to control your lust?”

Derek nodded slowly. “I don’t even think I need to control it though, do I?”

Stiles wanted to say ‘no’, but he had to ask, “You could though, right?”

Derek walked his fingers up one of Stiles’ arms until his whole hand cupped Stiles’ neck. “If you want me to, yes.”

“What if I don’t want you to?” Stiles asked. “Cause I don’t… I don’t want to go all the way or anything, but I wouldn’t mind us doing some exploring.” He smirked and teased, “If I’m going to be stuck with you for the rest of my life, I should at least get a little taste of what I have to look forward to every night.”

“Every night?” Derek asked, laughing.

Stiles shrugged and wiggled his eyebrows. “And a few times during the day too, permitting we have time alone.”

“Really?” Derek asked, smiling predatorily.

“I’ll have you know that my recovery period is pretty short.” Stiles felt confident enough through their easy banter to reach forward and gently grasp Derek’s blooming erection. It was weird holding a cock that wasn’t his own and Derek’s was much different from his own.

“Jesus,” Derek gasped, falling forward a little and burying his face in Stiles’ neck. He pulled Stiles against him, sandwiching his hand between their bodies. “Fuck, that feels good,” he whispered.

Stiles gathered the pre-cum from the tip of Derek’s dick and spread it down the length of his thickening cock. He felt Derek’s open mouth begin to suck and lave at his neck and it caused his stroking to halt for a moment, the sensation overwhelming him.

“Can I?” Derek asked, moving his hand so it pressed between them too. His fingers tapped over Stiles’ belly button, right beside where his full-blown erection curved and rested.

“Uh-huh, yes,” Stiles said, jacking Derek’s cock once again. “Oh god!” he gasped and his head fell forward onto Derek’s shoulder. “Your hand.”

“Feel good?” Derek asked against his skin.

“Yes,” Stiles moaned, his hand picking up the pace on Derek’s dick, feeling it get even longer and thicker.

Derek moved the hand that wasn’t on Stiles’ cock to his back and he began to connect all of the beauty marks his fingers found there at the same time that his tongue did so on Stiles’ face.

Stiles could feel himself getting close embarrassingly fast, but by the little whimpers Derek was making and feeling how unbelievably hard his cock was getting, he’d bet Derek was close to coming as well. He grasped Derek’s hair, pulled and crashed his mouth on to Derek’s lips. It was a sloppy awkward kiss, but neither of them seemed to really care. Derek’s tongue swept into his mouth and Stiles caught it, sucking on it with his lips until Derek pulled back to take a deep breath.

“Derek,” Stiles groaned his name and separated himself a little from Derek when he felt something odd. He looked down between their naked bodies and there, right under where he gripped Derek’s shaft was something he’d never for the life of him imagined seeing. “You have a…”

“Huh?” Derek’s hand stilled on Stiles’ cock when he felt a mix of emotions assault Stiles and take over the smells of desire he’d been luxuriating in. “What’s…”

“You have a fucking knot?” Stiles gasped, releasing Derek’s cock.

To Be Continued in Chapter Thirteen


	14. Chapter Thirteen: "Mingle"

_What we want is somebody to be naked with, not only in body, but in soul._ ~ J. Iron Word

“Okay, I’m here,” Lydia said breathlessly as she walked into the living room at Scott and Allison’s house. Her heels clicked loudly on the hardwood floor as she walked with determination toward the couch. She dropped down next to Stiles, effectively separating him from Scott and demanded, “Tell me what happened.”

Scott made a huffing noise and adjusted his position so that he could peer around Lydia. “Hello to you too, Lydia.”

Lydia rolled her eyes and cut Scott a glare. “Now is not the time for pleasantries,” she said dismissively and looked into Stiles eyes. “Something huge happened or you wouldn’t have demanded we meet here alone. So tell me, what is it?”

Stiles scooted away from Lydia. “I asked you to meet here because I want to discuss it with Scott, too.” He gave his best friend an exaggerated wave.

“Fine.” Lydia clutched her purse and sank back in the couch. She glanced at Scott and then asked Stiles, sweetly. “What did you tell him before I got here?”

“Nothing yet,” Stiles said. “I showed up right before you and we’d only just sat down when Scott heard your car pull up.”

“Good.” She gave him a look that said, ‘go on’.

“There are a couple of things I need to talk to you both about, things I want your advice on, but first you should know that Derek and I are together.”

“Obviously,” Scott and Lydia said in unison and then turned to face one another wearing shocked expressions.

All three of their people in the room asked in unison, “What?”

“How do you know?” Stiles asked Lydia. He knew that Scott had obviously figured it out.

Lydia laughed. “You know that I knew how you felt about him,” she said to Stiles. “Also, the wolves in the pack may be too busy with their own lives to think anything of it, but I know you both have been avoiding us all. When you called, I kind of figured that because the monthly pack meeting is in a couple of days, you’d want some advice on how you and Derek should ‘come out’ to the pack.”

“Most of them will be able to tell you’re together as soon as they get a whiff of your scents,” Scott said, scrunching his nose up. That was enough of an explanation for Lydia about how he knew, she didn’t need him to tell her the whole story about how Stiles found out that Derek was his mate, at least not yet. Scott figured that it would be up to Stiles to tell her that if he wanted to share it.

Lydia looked delighted. “Oooh, you’ve got to give me details!”

“I am _not_ giving you details,” Stiles told her. “Especially because neither one of you decided to tell me about a particularly huge detail.”

“I think the words huge and details are…”

“Shut up, Scott,” Stiles said.

“I don’t want the details,” Scott added.

“But I do,” Lydia said. “What detail were you thinking of?”

Stiles felt his cheeks flush as he thought back to the moment he had seen Derek’s knot for the first time. He felt his cock throb in curious excitement and jumped up from the couch, and with his back to his friends he discreetly adjusted himself. When he faced his friends again, Scott’s scrunched up expression turned even sourer. “Um, yeah. So, neither one of you, in all this freaking time of sharing details of our sex lives, even some that I never, ever, ever, ever wanted to know…” He gave them each a long hard look. “Neither one of you thought to tell me that werewolves have knots?”

Scott made a weird noise that came from the back of his throat and looked down at his feet. “Jesus, Stiles,” he whispered, sounding scandalized.

Lydia cackled with laughter. “Oh, Stiles. Seriously? You’re kidding me, right? You had to have known! I know for a fact that you read any and all books about werewolf traditions, rituals, mating bonds, claimings and whatever other names they use for finding your soul mate that you could lay your hands on. You studied the Bestiaries cover to cover and I know I you delved into the Hale Pa… Wait a minute! Derek... Derek Hale has a knot for you?”

“Yes,” Stiles squeaked out. “You heard me…”

“But werewolves only achieve knots when they’re with their mate!” Lydia screeched.

Scott finally looked up at Stiles and winced. “Sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” Lydia asked Scott. “What’s going on?”

Stiles was done standing. There was no way he was going to get an awkward boner again, not with how foolish he felt. “Seriously?” he asked Scott, sitting back down on the couch. “You didn’t think that when you were giving me the rundown about mating marks and all that, that maybe you should’ve told me about knotting?”

“I thought you already knew,” Scott said defensively. “I didn’t think that you and Derek would actually go so far as to have sex without him telling you about it first.” He looked at Stiles with worry. “Are you… Did he hurt you?”

“I’m fine,” Stiles said. “We didn’t… It was just… Oh god. We were giving one another hand jobs and it happened.”

“He should’ve told you about it before it even got that far,” Lydia said, a bit of anger in her voice. “He’s a born wolf and I’m sure he fucking knew better. Now, will you please tell me what this means? Are you and Derek really mates and what does Scott have to do with telling you about marking?”

“Yes,” Stiles said, smiling and feeling the love he had for Derek swell in his chest. “Derek and I are mates. Scott figured it out a couple of weeks ago after Arek’s birthday. He saw some marks I’d left on Derek and he told me about them. I’d made them without realizing it and Derek wasn’t telling me about them because…”

“Because Sophia was a Rosewood,” Lydia said. “How is that possible?”

“It’s a long story,” Stiles said. “And that wasn’t the only reason he didn’t tell me.”

“Well, you’ve called us together to talk and I have a babysitter for the next couple of hours, so spill,” Lydia insisted.

“I really don’t want to get it into it,” Stiles said firmly. “It’s just going to upset me and I really don’t want to be feeling like shit right now. Someday I’ll tell you the whole story, I promise.”

“Then give me the shortened version,” Lydia conceded.

“The shortened version is, I didn’t know about mating marks or anything that wolves traditionally do to claim someone as their mate because Sophia and I weren’t mates. She didn’t like traditions and I didn’t question her not wanting to do any of the ones from her family or any of the ones I knew of. As much as I read in the Bestiaries and other books, I didn’t ever read the parts about matings. I really didn’t and I feel fucking stupid for not knowing about them, even more so now that I know about the knotting thing. Also, Sophia wasn’t a Rosewood.”

“What?” Scott gasped.

“Sophia never knew and this isn’t information we’re going to share with anyone until the children are much older, unless something forces our hand. Derek and I talked to Deaton and it’s highly possible that Sophia’s mother had an affair with Colin Hale when the Hales visited her family’s pack in Montana or when they visited the Hale pack here in Beacon Hills, both were around the time that Sophia would have been conceived. That’s why she didn’t understand the pull of the mating bond and the traditions like other Rosewoods and it’s why she felt pulled to the Hale pack.”

“Wow,” Lydia whispered, shaking her head. “I never would’ve thought…” She frowned. “Stiles, are you all right? I mean, Sophia had to have known that you weren’t her mate, but she still called you that. I know that she did.”

“I’m… I’m going to be okay about it someday. I’m angry about it though, you know? And really sad. But then there’s Derek and how I feel for him, how I’ve always felt, which yeah I realize makes me sound like an asshole because I was married to Sophia, who I swear to you I loved and I promise that I never, ever looked at Derek or thought like that of him while I was with her or…”

“You don’t have to convince us,” Lydia cut him off and placed her hand on his knee. “Stiles, you thought she was your mate. You thought that since she was a Rosewood, she had to be right. Knowing you, whatever you felt for Derek, it got pushed so far down inside of you, you never let a whisper of it escape while you were with Sophia. I know that, so does Scott and so will the rest of the pack. We all saw you with her. We all saw and felt how much you loved her. But Stiles... You and Derek being what I know you once wished you could be, that’s huge! It’s amazing!”

Stiles smiled and squeezed her hand. “Thank you.”

“So, what do you want our advice on next?” Lydia asked.

“I’m not finished being pissed at you two about not telling me about knots and knotting,” Stiles said, crossing his arms over his chest. “How could you guys not tell me?”

“Dude, I was so not going to tell you about something like that. We do not share details like that. We just don’t talk about that stuff,” Scott defended.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “That’s bullshit. You described to me in detail what Allison’s…”

Lydia put a hand over Stiles’ mouth. “As we’re in Allison’s house, I think it is best we not talk about that bit of overshare.” She dropped her hand. “I didn’t tell you about Jackson's because the last time I talked to you about his dick, you specifically told me to never give you details about it again.”

“Hmm. Okay, you have me there,” Stiles admitted.

“What did you do when you saw it?” Lydia asked. “I mean, I was pretty shocked by the look of Jackson’s and I was expecting it.”

“I screamed, ‘You have a fucking knot?’, and scrambled off the bed.” He would not tell them that in fact he actually fell on his ass when doing so.

Lydia and Scott both laughed uproariously.

“Oh, fuck you both!”

“What happened then?” Scott asked between laughs.

“He apologized for not telling me sooner and then…” Stiles trailed off and looked at Scott, who was still laughing. “Then he pulled me back up on the bed and sucked my cock while telling me all about the things we’d need to do to prepare me to take his knot on the night of our wedding.”

“Oh, gross!” Scott groaned. “Dude, you didn’t need to go there!”

“You’re getting married?” Lydia asked.

“We’re mates,” Stiles said, as if that explained everything.

Lydia bounced excitedly and pulled Stiles into a tight hug before releasing him and then bouncing in her seat again. “Please tell me that you’ll have a big huge wedding and let me help you plan it!”

“We’re going to have a wedding, a Mating Ceremony. You can help with some stuff if you want, Lydia, but I’m going to do it by the book or I guess I should say, books.” Stiles reached around to the side of the couch where he’d placed his backpack when he first came in. He unzipped the big pocket and took out two large books, both bound in leather, one brown the other black. “These are the Hale and Bennett family books on their specific traditions for many things.” He handed one to Lydia and the other to Scott before reaching back into his bag to pull out a book that was much newer than the ones his friends were holding.

“This is my mom and dad’s photo album.” He flipped it open and there on the first page was a Polaroid picture of his mother, taken from the side. It showed her sitting in a yellow beach chair wearing a red and white polka dot bikini, the pale skin he’d only ever known her to have was a deep tan and the long chestnut hair, that he remembered her usually securing in a pony-tail, appeared to be whipping around in the sea breeze. She had one of her long thin hands clasped to her mouth, while the other hand was outstretched toward Stiles’ father and there were tears falling down her cheeks. 

Noah was bent on one knee in the sand at her feet, wearing only a pair of flower-printed swims trunks, his hair and fitness level showing signs of his time in the military. He had a huge smile on his face, an empty black jewelry box in one hand and the other, halfway to his mother’s hand, must have held the ring. The engagement ring was too thin to see in the photo, but the sunshine made a tiny spot in between his fingers, likely the diamond, gleam.

“She’s beautiful,” Lydia said and rubbed her hand up and down Stiles’ back. “You look just like her.”

He really did look a lot like his mother. If he were born a female, he was certain there would be little difference between the two of them. With the exception of their shared hyper disposition, Stiles seemed to have gotten his personality from his father and all of his physical traits from his mother.

Lydia rested her head against Stiles’ and squeezed him around the waist. “You gonna show us the rest?”

Stiles cleared his throat and wiped away the tears that had gathered in the corner of his eyes. “Yeah.” He flipped to the next page. “My mother kept a lot of stuff from when she planned their wedding.” He pulled out a small piece of folded up notebook paper that was kept in one of the pockets on the page. “This is a list of Russian and Polish traditional foods.” He opened the paper and placed it face up, his mother’s elegant scrawl calling his fingers forward to trace it. “Thankfully, she wrote it in English. I thought we could take what we find in here and also use the traditions from both sides of Derek’s family and put them all together.”

“That’s a great idea,” Scott said.

“That’s going to be pretty crazy,” Lydia countered. She looked inside at the Bennett book’s front page and saw the family crest. “You’re going to have a Russian, Polish, Scottish and Irish Werewolf wedding!”

Scott laughed. “Oh man, when you put it like that…”

“Hey!” Stiles protested. “We can do this. It’s not like Talia and Cade incorporated a lot of their Scottish and Irish heritage into their mating rituals, I already asked Peter.”

“The Irish have some pretty romantic traditions,” Lydia said. “I know my grandparents did the one where they join hands and the Priest ties…”

“There will be no knotting of….” Stiles stopped himself and felt his face flush. “Oh god! Of rope! No rope knotting around hands! We’re not doing that. It’s weird and can you imagine now I’d be thinking about the whole actual knotting thing! I’d get a boner in front of everyone and die on my wedding day!”

“We understand,” Lydia said placating, patting Stiles’ arm. “We’re sticking purely to the Hale & Bennett’s Werewolf Mating Ceremony traditions?”

“That’s a mouthful,” Scott muttered.

“Yes, we’re doing that,” Stiles agreed. “After our fun last night, Derek and I set a date. It’s going to be in October on the full moon.”

“You’re going to wait until October?” Lydia asked. “You can’t! Derek will go out of his mind if you’ve marked him already!”

“We’ve already taken care of the marks,” Stiles said. “They were a different type and I’ll explain that later. October will give us enough time to settle into sharing our lives, give the kids more time to adjust, and it will give us time to plan the Mating Ceremony of Derek’s dreams.”

“Derek’s dreams! What about your dreams?” Scott asked.

“That’s where this book comes in,” Stiles said, indicating his mother’s wedding album. “Most of my family’s stuff involves food, flowers and very few things that have any impact on the actual ceremony itself. Derek’s family though, they have a lot of specific things that need to be done before, during and after the wedding. I want to do them all, I want to give him that and maybe we’ll both feel like our families are still with us on the day.”

“Does he know you’re going to do this?” Lydia asked.

“He will,” Stiles said. “I told him that I was talking to you both today and that we’d be talking about wedding stuff. He said that he wants to be involved in the planning, which is what I hoped. I’ll want all of his input on the traditions. I just want to go over them with you guys so I know and understand them first and get your unbiased opinions.”

“We’d better get started then,” Scott said. He flipped to the appropriate section in the Hale book and was a little alarmed to see how vast it was.

“Let me get my pen and paper,” Stiles said. “You two start reading.”

“We’re doing all the reading?” Lydia asked suspiciously. “Why?”

“You said that you wanted help,” Stiles reminded her. He grabbed his notebook and pen from his bag. “I made my own lists from all the books this morning, but as you’re both aware of now, I obviously miss stuff when it comes to all the Mating Ceremony stuff.”

“When does Derek expect you home?” Lydia asked, eyes scanning the page she was on. “This could take a while.”

“We have two hours,” Stiles answered. “Arek and he are cooking us a feast to celebrate the other news I have for you both.”

“Are you pregnant?” Scott asked, teasingly.

“Shut up,” Lydia said, slapping Scott on the stomach.

Stiles grinned. “I called the school's Superintendent and told him that I to take a couple years off from teaching as I feel the need to be with my children as much as possible while they're still small. I explained that I intend to take online classes and earn my Masters, which means I’ll get to teach high school, as I’ve always wanted. I should be able to get that done by the time Klaudia is old enough to attend kindergarten.”

“You’re not going back to teaching?” Scott asked, shocked.

“Not this year,” Stiles affirmed. “The Superintendent understands. He lost his wife to cancer a couple of years ago and he said that he’d do the same if he were in my shoes. The kids have been through a lot of changes already and there are even more changes to come. We need to deal with them as a family and I want to be available to them as much as possible. I never really wanted to have any of them in daycare so young and though I know it’s a wonderful center, I want Klaudia home with me. Teaching barely allotted me three hours a day with the kids and that was only when didn’t have after school events, playdates or pack stuff to do. I’m planning to tell everyone else at the pack meeting.”

“Are you taking Arek out of nursery school, too?” Lydia asked.

“We talked over the options with them, whether or not they wanted to be homeschooled, go to school for a full day or only half days. They decided to try for half days at first and if they change their minds we’ll adjust to what best fits them. If they want to be home all day, I’d be fine with that, but I am not going to force them into homeschool when they both enjoy and do well learning there. Arek is old enough now to attend the same preschool as Danika, so that will make our morning school drop-off routine much easier, too.”

“What about Klaudia?” Scott asked. “Will she be going back to Madison’s daycare center?”

“Not this year. Even though Klaudia had a caregiver she knew and recognized as pack, she never adjusted the way that Danika and Arek did. During pack gatherings Madison is usually one of Klaudia’s favorite people to hang out with, but it was a completely different story at the center. You both dropped her off many times, and know that it was rare for her not to cry and cling to you with all her might each and every time. I’m a certified teacher, so if they decide to want to be homeschooled we’ll talk about that when the time comes. Derek and his siblings didn’t attend public schools until high school and that was only if they decided to stop their homeschooling. His oldest brother never went to public school and Derek said he was the more social out of all of them. The kids will still go on playdates and they’ll have all the pack children to be around as well.”

“We’ll help if you need it,” Lydia said. “Right, Scott?”

“Right,” Scott said, but his attention wasn’t on either Lydia or Stiles. “Uh, Stiles?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think you read this.” Scott shivered. “The Cleansing of…”

“I read that,” Stiles said. “Before the wedding we bathe in…”

“No, this is specifically about the ‘Cleansing of the Intended. Which is you, right?”

“That’s what I gathered from the reading,” Stiles confirmed.

Scott read, “Practices for the time observed before the Mating Ceremony. This shall go into practice the moment both individuals have agreed to mate.”

“What?” Stiles groaned. “I didn’t read anything about…”

“The page was kind of stuck to the one before it,” Scott informed. “One: Nightly, the intended, while nude, must give thanks to the moon, stars and sky. He must do so within the Hale woods territory. Two: Upon waking each morning, the intended must bathe…”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Stiles said, waving his hands. “I am not getting naked and traipsing off into the woods each night. It’s not happening!”

“But it’d be for Derek,” Lydia said, grinning evilly.

“Derek won’t want me to be at risk of some stranger seeing me naked!” Stiles insisted. “Let’s move on. I’ll make a note of that and ask Derek about it, but I doubt he’ll want to observe _that_ tradition.”

“Number two,” Scott began again. “Upon waking each morning, the intended must bathe using their mate’s soaps, oils and scrubs. They must dry off with the linen their mate previously used to aid in absorbing their mate’s scent.” Scott made a grossed out expression. “That is seriously disgusting!”

“You and Allison don’t ever share towels?” Lydia asked Scott.

“No way! She likes her giant soft towels that smell all flowery and I like my towels to have no scent at all.”

Stiles poised his pen over the notebook. “What page number is that stuff on? I want to move on to less traumatic shit.”

“There aren’t page numbers,” Scott said.

Lydia leaned over and pointed to the hand written roman numerals found in the upper left hand corner of the page. “It’s page forty-four, Stiles.”

“What is that in Greek or something?” Scott asked Lydia.

Lydia and Stiles both stared at one another for a moment and tried very hard not to laugh, but they couldn’t help themselves for long. 

“What?” Scott asked, completely perplexed.

“He. Said. What?” Lydia giggled. “He doesn’t know!”

“Is it Greek?” Stiles snorted and had to push the items he held to the floor so he could grip the couch cushion and hold on. He was in danger of falling off and landing on the floor due to his body wracking laughter.

“Then what language is it?” Scott asked, shaking Lydia’s shoulder.

Lydia just ignored him and doubled over. “Stop, please, I can’t…”

“Is this some secret code you both know?” Scott asked. “Did the Hale’s invent it?”

“It’s so not…. a secret!” Stiles laughed harder. “Please, please tell me that you’re not serious! Did the Hales… Did the Hales invent it? Oh, man!”

“Maybe they did,” Lydia said, snorting in a completely unladylike way. “Wait, they’re English or something, not…”

“So it isn’t in English?” Scott asked. “Is it French? It doesn’t look French.”

“I missed hanging with you two,” Stiles said, taking wheezing breaths and holding his now sore stomach. He couldn’t stop laughing and poor Scott was making it worse by the second as he started guessing languages every time it seemed that Lydia or he had a momentary reprieve from their laughter.

  
~*~

Derek looked at the massive list of rituals Stiles, Scott and Lydia had narrowed down to being ‘in the realm of possibility’ and wondered if it were possible for three people to all be equally insane. When Stiles had returned home with the list a couple of days ago, he’d seemed very happy and content with how his discussion with his two closest friends went and Derek hadn’t really asked for details. It was Stiles, he knew that his mate wouldn’t hold back in discussing it whenever he decided to do so. Apparently, that was now. Which, was a really weird timing. Though, Derek figured that again, knowing Stiles as well as he did, there was no wrong time to discuss whatever topic it was he wanted to talk about.

Derek looked down at the paper once again and then back up at Stiles. Stiles, who was lying on his back in their bed, completely naked, legs drawn up and feet planted close to his ass. Derek got a peak, whenever Stiles’ moved his legs apart in just the right way, of the base of the large black plug he’d inserted inside of him fifteen minutes ago.

After the pack meeting, the kids had fallen asleep on the car ride back from Lydia and Jackson’s house. If there was a threat to Beacon Hills it went without saying that all pack meetings took place at Derek's home, now their home, but when quiet the pack members would each take turns hosting every other meeting. It had been the Whittemores turn to host this meeting, something Stiles had expressed that he’d been eternally grateful for. He hadn’t wanted everyone to show up at their home and immediately inhale all the scents that told them of Derek and his activities around the house, not before they were told of their relationship and upcoming mating ceremony. They had, with the kids in tow, arrived at Lydia and Jackson's house last, per Lydia's request, making a grand entrance. The children's excitement at seeing the other pack children again made for a great distraction from any telling scents emitting from them all. Derek had stood in the middle of the lounge and announced, very abruptly, to the rest of the pack, his voice loud and drawing attention from everyone, that he and Stiles were mates and planning a Mating Ceremony.

There had been a lot of shocked faces and cut off questions from most of the pack’s lips that halted entirely when Derek had shifted to his beta form and glared at anyone that had asked questions in front of the children. Stiles had told them all that they could speak to Derek and him privately about it once the children were settled after dinner. It had been awkward for Derek, being openly affectionate with Stiles while he could smell and feel all the mixed emotions coming from the adults in his pack. 

Cora had barely waited for Jackson and Stiles to get upstairs, herding all the kids into the playroom, before she, with Isaac's help pushed him into the hall bathroom and demanded to hear the ‘whole fucking story on how the fuck it all finally happened’. Cora had such a wonderful way with words. Derek had explained, in as little detail as possible and by the time they exited the bathroom, everyone else knew as well. He really had no idea why he’d thought the small hall bathroom was soundproofed. He didn’t curse about that fact too much though because it got it all over with quickly and nobody seemed to want to ask him or Stiles anything more. Instead, when Stiles came back downstairs, they all gathered around their Alpha and his Mate to offer their heart-felt congratulations and help with the wedding planning. 

The hours that followed had been a lot more relaxing and Derek hadn’t felt any lingering awkwardness about kissing Stiles or holding his hand in front of the pack. He felt proud, constantly, having Stiles at his side, like he’d always wanted. The night went on and Derek had to do some major capping of his feelings because with Stiles looking so astoundingly happy surrounded by their pack, it made Derek want to devour him and not care who watched. He did care though, and knew that Stiles would too, which was one of the many reasons he didn’t give into the lust thrumming under his skin. He was quite possessive of Stiles and couldn’t imagine ever wanting anyone but him to see him naked.

That was why when he read all four of the pre-claiming rituals that involved Stiles’ public nudity, Derek immediately marked them off the list. The list, which he really didn’t want to be looking at right this moment, when he had something far more beautiful and alluring to keep his eyes on right there in his bed, but Stiles had asked him to look at it and Derek was a sucker for doing whatever Stiles wanted, especially when they were both still coming down from fantastic orgasms and he got to watch as the red flush that covered Stiles’ skin slowly abated. Stiles had thought that the perfect after-sex thing to do was reaching into his nightstand and handing Derek the ‘Tradition List’ as he’d titled it.

Derek took the pen Stiles had given him and crossed off another tradition, this one a Bennett one that Stiles’ notes under it said Peter had suggested, though his own mother and father had not observed it.

“What was it that you marked off?” Stiles asked. 

He still had sweat beads above his perfectly, plump Cupid's bow lip and Derek found it extremely distracting. He really wanted to lean forward and lick it off, but his advance on Stiles a minute ago, that would’ve resulted in him licking the two drops of come off Stiles’ elbow, had been denied. Those drops were still there and Derek really couldn’t figure out how they’d landed there. “Uh, what?”

Stiles grinned, his white teeth gleaming. “You’re sex drunk.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “I am _not_ sex drunk.” That was a huge lie. A big fat lie because he’d been about to follow that statement up with the words, ‘I’m drunk on you’ and that thought alone couldn’t have possibly be thought up by a sober mind.

Stiles huffed and kicked at Derek’s forearm with his bare foot. “What did you cross out? Tell me.”

That motion gave Derek a really good look at his pink hole, stretched tight around the shiny black toy that disappeared up inside of him. Derek half considered telling Stiles that he wanted to move the wedding date up because he really wanted to see what Stiles’ tight little pucker looked like wrapped around his dick, around his knot. Oh, fuck! He really just wanted to know what it felt like to be inside of him. Even though they were preparing Stiles to take him, he would still be so very tight.

Stiles laughed aloud and pushed himself to sit up and sit Indian style like Derek sat. “You are so not fooling me, Derek,” he said, resting his hands back on the bed and jutting his chest out, looking proud. “You’re so sex drunk right now you can’t even read what’s on that list, can you?”

Derek sucked in a breath and handed Stiles the list and pen, one hand dropping to immediately wrap around his throbbing cock. “I’ll read this later, okay?”

Stiles looked down at the list. “You crossed out ‘bathing one another before the intimate claiming’, why?”

“You already said that you wanted to do the one where we bathe one another before we put on our clothes for the ceremony. Why would we do it again?”

“Well, one is the way of the Hales and the other the Bennett’s. Don’t you maybe want to do it like your Dad’s family did it, too?”

Derek released his grip on his cock and let out a long, suffering sigh that turned into a growl. “I’m really glad that you’ve made their traditions so important to us, a lot of them I definitely want to do, but I don’t want to be thinking about all the stuff my parents did before they mated, okay?”

Stiles set the paper and pen aside and looked back at Derek with a frown on his face. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking. This whole thing was probably really insensitive of me. Of course it’s going to make you sad to think about…”

“It's not that,” Derek said, grabbing one of Stiles’ hands. “I just don’t want to be partaking in a pre-sex ritual that will undoubtedly make me think about the fact that my parents did the same thing. Naked.”

“Oh,” Stiles drew out the word, laughing.

Derek grinned and then moved their hands to their cocks. “Yeah. Oh.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to do anything that would spoil our super-hot mate claiming sex,” Stiles said, breathy.

Derek leaned in and teased Stiles’ lips with his tongue and then swiped at the sweat above them, finally. “We’ll plan the perfect ceremony that’s right for us, okay?”

“Yeah,” Stiles breathed against Derek’s mouth. “I have to say that it’s kind of amazing that you find me so attractive that even thinking about your parents being naked hasn’t been enough to stop you from popping a knot.”

Derek pulled back a little and pushed Stiles back onto the bed, causing his body to bounce. “You’re being naughty,” he growled, crawling in between Stiles’ legs.

“Oh my, Alpha,” Stiles gasped in equal parts fake and true arousal. “I think you may have to punish your bad human mate.”

Derek laughed as he moved to line up their bodies, their erections brushing together as he carefully lowered himself down onto Stiles, supporting his weight with his hands each side of Stiles’ shoulders. He ground down against Stiles’ cock, their pre-cum easing the friction. “You’re my perfect mate,” Derek said, staring into Stiles’ dark eyes. “You could be a vampire and I’d still want to claim you.”

Stiles laughed and moaned at the same time while baring his neck. “Thank god those things aren’t real. But I’m not opposed to you biting me.”

Derek stopped rocking his body and held very still. “Stiles…” he whispered, fearfully. “You can’t just tell me something like that.”

Stiles’ eyes widened. “I meant with your human teeth! Jesus, after all this time... I don’t want to be a werewolf. Seriously, unless it's life or death.”

Derek breathed out with relief and started moving again. He continued to gaze into Stiles’ eyes until he could no longer do so as he moved his face down against Stiles’ neck. His scent was so strong there and Derek didn’t think he could allow himself to bite with his human teeth. Maybe after he claimed Stiles he’d be able to control himself, but right now, just nuzzling against it caused his fangs to lengthen. He desperately wanted to bite Stiles, so he had to move his mouth before the urge became too overwhelming. He kissed his way up Stiles’ neck, to his jaw and ended at his lips. He kissed Stiles in the same hard quick rhythm that their bodies moved, kissed him deep enough to map the roof of his mouth with his tongue and swallow every moan Stiles’ throat released, before it could make it out of his mouth.

One day, soon, he’d have the control to give Stiles all of himself. That knowledge, the depth of it, came rolling through his mind at the same moment that his orgasm moved through his body, his emission painting Stiles’ cock and triggering his mate to come too. Derek breathed heavily as he came down from his orgasm, his hips sliding around a little, his cock sensitive in the aftermath, yet he didn’t want to separate himself from Stiles’ body. Soon, he would lie with Stiles for half an hour or more, their bodies connected and constantly erupting in little fireworks of orgasms while locked together. In just over a month from now, with the mate bond in place, Stiles would be able to fully understand the enormity of what it means to be both his mate and his anchor. He would know that he could trust himself to stay tethered to his humanity, not because Stiles would control him, but because Stiles was and always had been the key to every part of him being free. They would be free to be together in the way that Derek had at one time never believed would happen for him, for them.

Derek eventually rolled to the side of Stiles’ still quaking body and drew him close. His heart ached from the overwhelming emotions he felt for the man, for the scared, sarcastic sixteen year old boy who had stolen his heart and the brave, amazing and still very sarcastic man that he’d become. Stiles was very still and pliant against him, his head resting on Derek’s lower abs and his breathing was slowing. Derek ran a hand through Stiles’ hair and he whispered, “I love you.”

Stiles shook against him and turned to look up at Derek, his face in a big grin. “Did you really just tell me that you love me _right_ after you had a mind-blowing orgasm?”

Derek huffed. “Shut up and go to sleep, asshole.”

“That’s more like it,” Stiles said and put his head back down. 

Derek lay there with Stiles lightly draped over his body, still playing with the sweaty dark strands of Stiles’ hair, as his eyes closed in contentment. 

“I love you, too.”

And then his eyes snapped open. He listened and could hear that Stiles’ heart was slow and steady, and Derek would’ve thought he’d imagined it if not for the feel of Stiles' smile against his skin.

To Be Continued in Chapter Fourteen


	15. Chapter Fourteen: "Strings"

_Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone - we find it with another._ ~Thomas Merton

“Okay, okay, I can do this,” Stiles said, pacing the kitchen floor.

Derek was suddenly there in front of him, taking his wrists in his hands and halting his movements. “ _We_ can do this,” he told Stiles, holding his gaze. “You have to calm down because they'll react to your feelings. If they smell you emitting a bundle of emotions they haven’t yet learned to decipher aren’t always negative, they will be confused about how you feel.”

“But…”

Derek put his finger over Stiles’ lips. “Calm down,” he said, voice low and soothing. “If anyone should be nervous, it should be me. I’m the one that they’re going to have to accept as their new parent. I’m also going to have to go against my natural behavior and not project, as you say, ‘my Alphaness all over them’. I want to know their real reactions to what we have to say without us influencing them. Even though Danika and Arek are small and its likely Klaudia may not care or understand anything we’re saying, it’s possible they will piece it together in their own way or remember it later on down the road. Either way, we need to be calm and happy.”

Stiles twisted his wrists and curled his hands so that they were on top of Derek’s and he let them slide all the way up his bare arms and then down his flanks to rest on his hips. He leaned forward and placed his head in the crook of Derek’s neck and breathed his scent in. Derek gathered him closer and soon they were pressed tight against one another with no space between them, Derek mirroring Stiles’ actions and breathing in and out Stiles’ scent. After a few minutes, Stiles felt his nerves and uncertainty give way to the all-encompassing power that came with being near your mate.

“You okay now?” Derek asked, words rumbling against Stiles’ throat.

Stiles tipped his head back, extracted himself from Derek’s arms and nodded confidently. “Okay. Let’s do this.” He took Derek’s hand in his and together they walked into the family room where all three children were playing the massive collection of over-sized Mega Blocks. 

“They’re really at home here,” Derek whispered, as they both stopped just inside the room. “Ever since I brought those blocks out of the playroom, they don’t mind sitting in here with us.”

“I don’t blame them. It was a tad dull in here before.”

“You gave your input for this whole house,” Derek reminded, pinching his hip.

Stiles squirmed away from Derek’s grasp and rolled his eyes. “Did you really think that Lydia or Allison actually listened to my input?”

“They didn’t?” Derek asked it like a question but it was more of a statement. “I told them I wanted all of your opinions. Mostly though, I wanted yours.”

Stiles beamed and put his head on Derek’s shoulder. “That’s cute. I did give it on just about everything, and won a couple arguments, mostly the ones about the kitchen and basement. Also, I helped you pick out the practical stuff, remember?”

“That's not the point,” Derek said. It had been so long ago, there was no need to be upset with Lydia and Allison now. Looking back on it, he should’ve known that they would take over. The point back then had been that he wanted his three human pack members to all equally contribute to making the house a home. If Stiles had been his mate then, the decisions would’ve been left to the two of them, but he’d thought that it was both good for the pack and a good way to have Stiles help out without it being a big deal. “I wanted this to be our home one day and I wanted you to make it into one, not just the girls doing what they liked. If there’s anything in this house you want to change, we’ll change it.”

Stiles grabbed Derek’s hand and squeezed it. “I appreciate that, Derek. I think its fine for now, we’re planning a ceremony so any redecorating will have to wait. I like it here and so does the kids. I understand that the formal areas need to be sleek and beautiful, I just feel like a family room shouldn’t be formal. I don’t want children to feel like this entire floor is off-limits and a no-fun zone. I want them to be comfortable, to be messy and have fun. Bringing toys in here really helped with the fun factor.”

“I’m glad they’re having fun, but they aren’t that messy,” Derek said and laughed when at that very moment Danika dumped out the rest of the blocks in the plastic container, sending them scattering all over the floor. “This can be picked up in seconds. I want you guys comfortable here, so if this ends up turning into a playroom too, I’m fine with that.”

Stiles leaned over and kissed Derek’s cheek. “Thank you.”

“Daddy, wook!” Klaudia said, finally noticing her father and Derek in the room. She had a row of single blocks all the same shape, each one yellow, lined up on the floor in front of her, a familiar sight whenever she played with the blocks. Stiles and Derek had tried to get her to play with the many other colors, but she wasn’t interested. She just liked to line up the yellow ones, take the line apart and do it again, occasionally using it as a track for her race cars. Stiles had asked her if yellow was her favorite color the first time he saw her play this way, but Klaudia had shook her head, picked up a blue block and told Stiles the color of it. He wasn’t certain that she was telling him that was her favorite color or simply acknowledging its color, but he noticed that she gravitated toward the color whenever he asked her to help him pick out her clothing.

“That’s awesome, Klaudia,” Stiles told her, as he did every time he saw her creations.

“Is it a race track?” Derek asked, squatting down beside the row and picking up the Buzz Lightyear rocket race car.

“Yeah,” Klaudia said and was obviously thrilled that Derek understood what she made with the blocks.

Arek and Danika were paying them no mind, busy building a tower together in the corner of the room, the wall supporting the leaning parts of it. “Danika, Arek, can you guys pause in building that awesome tower for just a minute? Derek and I want to talk to you.”

Arek looked over at Stiles and his shoulders slumped before he stomped over to where Stiles and Derek stood near Klaudia, making a ‘uhhh’ noise as he went. Danika on the other hand acted as though she hadn’t heard them and continued to place blocks near the base of the tower.

“Danika,” Derek said, his voice a little stern. “Please come over here, just for a minute.”

Danika growled, though it was entirely human and she put her hands on her little hips and rolled her eyes as she turned toward them. “Fine,” she whined, drawing out the word for the whole ten feet distance between the tower and them.

Stiles allowed their attitudes a pass this once, he didn’t want to start this conversation off on a bad foot by admonishing either of his children. He sat down on the floor next to Derek was sitting with Klaudia now in his lap, running the car up and down his arms. Arek climbed into Stiles’ lap and that seemed to motivate Danika to want some cuddle time also and she squished in beside Arek, under one of Stiles’ arms.

“Okay,” Derek said, letting out a deep breath and sharing a smile with Stiles.

“You guys love Derek, don’t you?” Stiles asked them. A chorus of agreement was heard the moment the question left his mouth and Stiles’ heart warmed. “Good, because I love Derek too and Derek loves you guys as much I do.”

“Like a Daddy?” Danika asked, craning her neck to look up at Stiles.

“Yes, just like a Daddy. Just as I love you.”

“Affa,” Arek said and reached his hand out toward Derek.

Derek grinned at the adorable miniature Stiles and took the tiny hand in his. “I’m your Alpha, that’s right, Arek. I love you even more than an Alpha loves all the pups in his pack though. I love you as if you were my son, just like you are Daddy’s son. Do you understand?”

Arek nodded and crawled out of Stiles’ arms and into Derek’s. He pressed his face against Derek’s chest, his hands grasping the material of Derek’s shirt and whimpered, “Love.”

Klaudia mimicked her brother’s words and then patted his back.

“My kids are too cute for words,” Stiles said, rolling his eyes. “How can I have a serious conversation with them when they’re so cute?”

Derek laughed. “I don’t know, we’ll probably change our minds when they’re teenagers.”

“And me?” Danika asked, not wanting to be left out, and following the conversation much closer than her younger siblings.

“Yes,” Derek said emphatically. “I love you, too. Just as much as Daddy loves you.”

“Good.” Danika said, sticking her bottom lip out.

“I love your Daddy too,” Derek spoke, keeping his eyes on Danika.

“You kissed again,” Danika said.

“We did,” Stiles said. “We kissed because we love another and we want to get married. We want us all to be a family. Do you guys understand?”

Arek and Klaudia at this point weren’t really understanding what they were saying, but Danika did. Her big honey-colored eyes widened dramatically as she looked at Derek and then once again looked up at Stiles. “Like Mommy?”

Stiles stilled for a moment and he glanced at his youngest children, afraid for the moment when the word would trigger a melt-down, but they didn’t seem to be upset by it. Their attention did snap to him, but they were just staring at him, waiting for him to answer. “Yes, I want to marry Derek, just like I married your mommy.”

Danika wiggled around until Stiles released her and she stood up and asked Derek, “You won’t die?”

Derek and Stiles had matching horrified expressions on their faces and answered in unison, “No.”

“Not for a long, long time,” Derek assured her and reached out for her hand, tugging her against his side. He knew that something could happen to him any day, but he would rather all the kids believe him to be a liar, than to worry about him dying and leaving them.

“Okay,” Danika said, sighing. “I like it.”

“That’s great,” Derek said, his voice cracking a little.

Stiles shimmied on his knees so that he was closer to his family and asked Arek directly. “Is it okay with you if we get married?”

Arek just blinked a couple of times and whispered, “Yeah.”

“What about you, Klaudia? Is it okay if Derek and I get married?”

Klaudia stared at Stiles and then looked up at Derek and then back at her car, apparently having no objection.

“One more thing,” Stiles said, rubbing his hand up and down Danika’s back. “Because Derek loves you like I do, he’s going to be your parent, just like me. It won’t feel too different though because Derek have been treating you guys like you’re his children for a long time. There is one thing that can change though, and only if you want it to. Instead of calling him Derek or Alpha, you can call him Papa or Dad. You don’t have to, but if you want to do it it’s okay with us.”

Danika smiled big and bright and poked Derek in the cheek. “Dad.”

Derek’s eyes sparkled as he looked at Danika, his throat too tight for him to speak, so he just smiled and nodded.

Stiles’ heart hammered in his chest and he felt so much peace wash over him, it made his knees weak. Even though he was already nearly sitting, his body swayed a little, into Derek and his children and he could think of nothing better to stop his instability than to open his arms wide and draw all four of them into his arms. They were going to be okay. They were going to be a family.

  
~*~

Stiles was startled awake by Arek’s hand flailing in sleep and hitting him square in the nose. He’d fallen asleep reading _Where the Wild Things Are_ to the kids and they’d done the same. Stiles had brought out a bunch of pillows and blankets and rigged up a tent that went nearly the entire length and width of the family room. Trying his best not to wake Arek, he moved the boy off his chest and onto one of the many pillows on the floor. As soon as Danika felt Arek’s body come closer to hers, she threw an arm over his waist. Klaudia was spooned up next to Danika, her pacifier falling out of her mouth and one of her hands tangled with one of Danika’s hands.

Lately their lives had been so incredibly busy and emotional. Stiles sometimes forgot just how astounding it was that he was a parent to three perfect little beings. He had not been able to have such a peaceful and playful night as the one he’d had with them tonight in quite a while. The flashlight he’d been using to read had rolled under one of the blankets, but it cast a strong enough light for Stiles to look at all three of his children and really take them in. Their bond with one another was strong and sometimes they fought over stupid little things, but Danika, even in sleep, acted like a protective big sister. Arek, who seemed to get taller every day, was beginning to look less like the baby Stiles still sometimes thought him to be. Klaudia, she was growing fast too, only two inches shorter than Arek and out weighing him at their last doctor appointment. All three looked so much like him it was shocking at times because they’d make faces at him and if he didn’t know better he’d think that he was looking in a mirror through time. 

The day Danika had been born and the first time she’d fallen asleep in Sophia’s arms, Sophia had told him as much. ‘She’s so adorable, Stiles. Even in sleep she looks like you.’ Her realization had sounded so loving, so pleased. Stiles couldn’t imagine why anyone would actually be pleased to have a copy of him, but she’d been so genuinely happy about it. Sophia had had tears in her big blue eyes as she'd looked up at him, gently rocking their newborn daughter, and that had been when Stiles had really fallen in love with her. He’d fallen in a way that surpassed the feelings he’d felt before, which had been boosted by perceived fate and the excitement of knowing that someone wanted him.

Stiles knew that it wasn't very likely that Derek and he would be together if Sophia were still alive. Then again, it was quite possible that the truth would have been unveiled as Stiles would’ve been careless and hurt Derek during one of his many flailing awkward limbs episodes. He didn’t really like to think about that, because he didn’t know if he would’ve ever broken their family to be with Derek. He did know that what he felt for Derek transcended any other feelings he had ever felt for anyone else, with the exception of his children. His three adorable sleeping children that he couldn’t help but wish still had a mother, all the while thinking of how grateful he was that they would have another father. They would have Derek in their lives, both as an Alpha and as their parent.

Stiles kissed all three of their chubby little cheeks, turned off the flashlight and then slowly crawled out from under the tent, rising to his feet just before the entrance to the room. As he walked into the hallway, he saw that the light was on in Derek’s office through the slight gap under the door. Derek hadn’t been home when he’d fallen asleep; he’d been at the station with Stiles' father helping him with a non-supernatural disappearance. As a courtesy, Stiles knocked when he got to the door, though Derek almost always told him he didn’t need to.

“Come in, Stiles,” Derek said, tone amused.

Stiles opened the door and stepped inside. “Hey. You’re back.”

“I am.” Derek said, smirking. He sat in the middle of the sofa with the low coffee table in front of him filled with old books, file folders and papers. “You know you don’t have to knock. I only had it closed because I didn’t want to wake you guys if I decided to turn on the TV.”

Stiles shrugged as he moved to sit down beside Derek, as close as he could get without actually sitting in his lap. He put his left hand around the back of Derek’s neck and pulled him into a kiss. “I’m glad you’re home,” he said, in between kisses. “We missed you tonight.”

“I missed you too,” Derek told him, ending the kiss after playfully biting Stiles’ lip. “It was a long night.”

Stiles stiffened a little. “What happened with the case? Were you and Gavin able to help?” Danny’s boyfriend Gavin was a deputy at the Sheriff’s Department and also a fae. He didn’t have heightened werewolf senses, but he did have the ability to read someone’s mind when he touched them. Gavin had been orphaned as a child and he hadn’t even know he had fairy blood within him until his powers had been ‘activated’ the first time he’d been introduced to the Hale pack while shaking Derek’s hand. Deaton didn’t know how to explain it because the fae were a very secretive supernatural species and there were hundreds of types of them, so it had been hard to find any answers.

“Gavin couldn’t do much yet, we weren’t able to find the missing woman and we’re beginning to think that the husband may have done something to her, but he’s refusing to talk to us. He’s lawyered up and we’ll have to wait for a warrant to go through before your dad can bring him in for further questioning. Your dad and Gavin are pissed that the other deputies talked to the husband before calling either one of them.”

“What do you think?” Stiles asked. “Did you smell anything weird at his house?”

“There was definitely the smell of blood near his car, and I sensed a struggle, but I couldn’t get close enough to the property to know more. The house has numerous cameras outside, is surrounded by a tall gate and there are bars on almost every window. Your dad is confident that the judge will sign a search warrant tomorrow morning and maybe then we’ll find probable cause.”

“You’re sure the guy is not supernatural, right?”

Derek rubbed his hands over his face. “I’m sure. I feel like if he were, this might be easier to deal with.”

“Are you going to be there tomorrow when they search the house?”

“Not until they’ve found something to arrest the guy for,” Derek said. “I may occasionally act as a ‘psychic’ consultant for your father, but it's not an official or respected position. I don’t have the right to be at the house search with them. They may not even need me, as long as Gavin can get close enough to touch the guy.” He cleared his throat and changed the subject, “Deaton called me while I was out.”

“What about?” Stiles asked.

“He said he had something for me.” Derek picked up a large envelope from the table and held it up. Written in perfect cursive was Derek’s name. “It’s from my mother.”

The envelope wasn’t the type you ripped open, it was a metal clasp envelope with two butterflies passing through an eyelet each. “It looks important,” Stiles ventured. “What’s inside?”

“I haven’t looked,” Derek said and sank back against the couch. “Deaton said that my mother had one for all of us kids…” He gave Stiles a side-eyed glance. “But it’s something to do with us.”

“Us?” Stiles asked, eyes wide. “But how?”

“Okay,” Derek said. “Not exactly about us. It’s about mating or something. Deaton said he didn’t know the contents, but my mother had written us all letters that she intended to give us when we found our mates.”

Stiles frowned. “He’s known about us being together for weeks,” he said. “Why didn’t he give it to you before now?”

Derek huffed. “He said it was in the safe deposit box at the bank in Chico and he wanted to be sure that we were planning to marry before he gave it to me. He also alluded to having other things in the safe there that my mother gave him for safe-keeping.”

“He’s so annoying,” Stiles groaned, flopping back. “So, are you going to open it now?”

“Do you think I should?” Derek teased.

A sudden thought came to Stiles. “Hey! What if your mom knew that I was your mate?”

Derek sighed. “She couldn’t have known that.”

“Yeah,” Stiles said. “She could have. You knew Isaac and Cora were mates, you felt their bond the first time they met, remember? I’ve read about that, Derek. Family members can often feel the connection, if they recognize what the feeling means. Even Peter said that he felt it when Cora met Isaac. Your mom was a powerful Alpha, like you, so maybe she felt it when we met.”

“Stiles, she died before…” Derek was about to say that she hadn’t been alive the first time they met, but that wasn’t exactly true.

“We could’ve met before that day in the woods and just don’t know it,” Stiles said. “I knew who you were, I’d seen you around town and remembered you even though I was young. It’s possible we were younger, small enough to not remember and…”

“We were,” Derek cut Stiles off, taking one of his flailing hands in his to still his motions. “Or, you were.”

“What?” Stiles used his free hand to wave about in the air even so.

“You were too young to remember it, but I do. I was with my mom at Tanner’s grocery store. You were sitting in a shopping cart sucking on a pacifier and holding the same stuffed ewok Danika is always cuddling. Your dad was pushing the cart and your mother was next to it, pretending to tickle your moles away.”

“Holy shit,” Stiles whispered, overcome with memories of his mother. “It was a game she played with me. She’d say she’d tickle them away and sometimes she’d get a towel to clean my face and try to scrub them away.” Stiles’ heart ached and he longed to just experience one more of those moments. “But then, then she’d kiss all over my face, telling me that she really didn’t want them to disappear because they were beauty marks. She had even more of them than I do.” He cleared his throat and fought down his emotions. “Sorry, uh… tell me about our meeting, please.”

Derek twined his fingers with Stiles’. “Our mothers must have known one another because we didn’t just pass by you, instead they started talking. I’d only been in the store two minutes and I was so bored. Your dad took pity on me and started talking to me about basketball and then you took out your pacifier and started babbling too and some of it I could understand. I was surprised you talked so well and I asked your dad how old you were.”

“Mom and Dad always said I was talking in full sentences by eighteen months,” Stiles said, rolling his eyes. “No surprise there.”

“No, there really isn’t and it seems to be a trait you've passed on to the kids,” Derek said, amused. 

“Anyway, your dad said your birthday party was the next day, that you were turning two. You were excitedly talking about cake being yummy and I agreed with you and asked you what your favorite kind was.” Derek frowned. “Then all of the sudden, you let out the loudest cry I’d ever heard and it really freaked me out.”

Stiles laughed. “I can’t believe you’ve never told me about this.”

Derek felt himself blushing. “I didn’t want to tell you I made you cry the first time we met! I remember it so well because I was always good with little kids and babies…”

“You still are,” Stiles said, warmly.

Derek’s blush had no chance of receding at this rate. “I hadn’t even touched you, but you looked right at me and cried like I’d hurt you. I felt your misery so strongly it started to make me sick to my stomach. It was one of the only times I had ever felt real symptoms of being ill. That was the day that my mother taught me how to stop other people’s emotions from affecting my own. After that I saw you around town once in a while, and I felt something weird, but I thought it was just because I remembered the day I felt sick from your crying. More than likely, it was because of our bond.”

“I feel like I should apologize for my two year-old self, but from what my Dad has said, I was an emotional baby. I probably just suddenly wanted a nap and was pissed I was at the grocery store instead of at home in bed. That's another behavior I’ve passed down to my children, if Danika’s attitude is anything to go by,” Stiles said. “Do you have any more important childhood memories about us you haven’t told me about yet?”

“No,” Derek assured. “Like I said, I saw you around town and I felt something weird, which was probably the mate pull, but we never actually _met_ again, until that day in the woods.”

“Is it possible that she knew I was your mate?” Stiles asked. “Or like had a little feeling about it and that’s what she’s writing to you about?”

“I don’t know, Stiles. I think she would’ve told me if she did know. Plus, if she had a letter for each of us kids, then it is probably just general stuff about mating traditions or something. Only one way to find out though.” Derek opened the envelope and as he touched the papers inside he felt a buzz of energy emitting from them, the same draw he felt whenever he touched any important family heirlooms.

Stiles put his hand on Derek’s knee and squeezed it. “If you want to have some alone time to read it, I’d understand.”

Derek shook his head. “No, I want you here.” Derek took the three pages of stationary, stapled together in one corner, out of the envelope and looked down at the first page. His mother’s small neat script displayed a date he knew well; it was Stiles’ date of birth. Seeing the handwriting she reserved for notes and cards after such a long time, make his throat tighten and to realize that she’d written this the day Stiles was born was mind blowing. “It’s… it’s your birth day.”

Stiles looked down at the page. There was nothing but Derek’s name and his very own date of birth on the stationary. “Wow.” He shivered a little. “Either I’m right or that’s got to be a coincidence, but a pretty cool one. Your mom had really neat writing.”

Derek nodded. “She usually wrote in cursive, but when she wrote notes to us or wrote greeting cards, she always used this lettering because Laura had told her once she couldn’t read her cursive writing. After the fire, I didn’t have anything left where she wrote like this. All the writing in the wills and pack stuff looks different from this style.”

“And now you’ll have this, a letter written just for you,” Stiles said, his voice soft.

Derek’s lips slowly formed a smile. “Yeah.” He took another moment to stare at the page and then flipped to the next. He began to read his mother’s words aloud.

_Derek, if for some reason you are reading this and I am no longer with you, know that I love you and I am sorry I could not be with you now. Of all my children, if I was lucky enough to have such a special child, I should have known that it would be you, Derek. I should’ve guessed that you would be our Visionary…_

“What the...?” Stiles gasped, moving slightly away from Derek so that he could look at him directly. “Do you know what that means?”

Derek couldn’t speak. He could only nod his head at Stiles as he looked down at the writing again to be certain that what he'd read was still on the page.

“Derek!” Stiles yelled, bouncing in his seat. “This shit isn’t supposed to be real! All the bestiaries I’ve ever read that even mention it say that it’s a popular myth with no truth or traced origins. It’s a bedtime story werewolves tell their pups about meeting their mates! Hell, this is one of the only ones Sophia told me about because the Rosewoods tell this story like it’s a fairy tale they wish was real!”

“I…” Derek didn’t know what to say, think or feel. He didn’t understand how this would even be possible. “My family didn’t tell that story, but I heard of other packs telling it and I’ve read the lore.”

Stiles looked at the page. “This is the date I was born, Derek. Jesus! Maybe it does mean something! You…Can you keep reading? Please?”

“Yeah,” Derek spoke finally and cleared his throat.

_…but even if I imagined it or hoped for it, I never thought it would happen to you so young. I have never had to take memories from a child. Of all the memories of awakenings that have been passed from every Hale Alpha down to me, of all the stories I’ve heard of those whom have had these visions, only one was younger than fourteen and most were in their twenties._

_My Derek, you are so young, you’re my baby boy, and tonight I had to do something that will haunt me forever. Even after you are old enough to know the truth, my heart will hurt for doing this to you. I was awake when the visions started for you while you slept, as has been the case for all those I know of. I saw it all happen as you did, and then I had to wake you, make you curl onto my lap and try to calm your mix of worry and excitement as you told me about what you saw._

_You wept against my chest, begging me to take you to the baby, and as you cried I had to sink my claws into your fragile little neck and pray that I wouldn’t hurt you. It is the first time as an Alpha that I have had to take a member of my pack’s memories and though I had the visions along with you, the barrage of feelings, the need to protect your mate did not hit me until after I completed the task. Though I can logically tell myself that I did what had to be done to protect you both, it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done and I hate myself for hurting you. I know that I must protect your mate because you did not have the control to understand you couldn’t go to him, that you were too young to protect him. I had to do it and that’s the only consolation I have for doing what I did, what many Hale Alphas have done before me. I also know why Visionaries are kept a secret and spoken of as myths._

_There will be a day that you’ll read this and I hope that you will have forgiven me by the time you do. At this point in your life, I’m sure you have been aware of your gifts for some time, and that I’ve been able to restore these precious memories to you._

Derek stopped reading when the tears in his eyes blinded him. “She’s gone,” he said brokenly. “I’m not ever going to get back the memories she took from me!”

“Maybe you can,” Stiles said, encouragingly. “She may have written all about them.”

Derek wiped his eyes and turned to the next page of the letter and started reading again.

_When I received the Alpha power and learned of the truth of Visionaries, there was an immense amount of memories that weren’t my own, colliding together. None were as clear and strong as your vision. I will make sure that you know you are a Visionary when your mate turns sixteen. (And you wouldn’t be reading this if you haven’t yet met him.) Throughout your life, he will know that you are special, and you that you are meant to find your perfect mate and not settle for less. I will do everything within my power to make sure you have remained true to your mate until the time comes that you are to meet him._

Derek’s hands trembled as the papers dropped into his lap. He wasn’t sure how he’d been able to read the whole thing. His throat was tight, it felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest, and his lungs felt like they were shriveling up, allowing him little air.

“Derek!” Stiles shouted, shaking him by the shoulders.

Derek couldn’t see Stiles through the barrage of tears or the black abyss creeping in on him.

  
~*~

“I have’ta go to him, Mommy. I have’ta!” Derek cried, his body wiggling in his mother’s strong embrace. “He’s mine! He was born for me, Mommy!”

“I know,” his mother soothed, keeping her grip on him. “But you can’t. Even if he weren’t human, he’d be too young. You’re both far too young.”

Derek stared up at his mother, his pleading eyes flashing gold. “Please, he’s mine. He needs me. The baby needs me!” “He’s mine,” he wept. “He’s mine. I need him, Mommy!” Derek felt his mother’s hand card through his hair and then her fingernails lightly scratched the back of his neck. 

“He’ll always be yours, my little Visionary.”

  
~*~

“Uhh!” Derek bolted upright and one hand immediately cupped the back of his neck, before his eyes could even take in his surroundings.

“Derek!” Stiles cried. “Are you all right?”

Derek felt disoriented as he brought his hand in front of his face and saw a few speckles of blood on his palm. “I… I don’t know?” Then in a rush, all of his senses righted themselves and he spun around on the exam table and saw Deaton and Peter standing behind him. “What did you do?” he asked uncle.

“He did what he had to,” Stiles said, gently placing his hand on Derek’s thigh. Derek had been speaking, telling the story of his visions and feelings as he experienced them, but he wasn’t sure if Derek would still remember them when completely conscious. “Did it work? Did you get your memories back?”

Derek’s attention snapped back to Stiles, the man’s emotions projecting fear, worry and relief like a thick smoke at Derek. “I did.” He thought about all the other visions from previous Hales that he’d swam through first and added, “And more.” 

“As did I,” Peter spoke, shaking his right hand into a tubular wooden jar. “So many Visionaries in the Hale clan that I never would’ve guessed were so special.”

Derek growled and gave Deaton a murderous look. “Why did you let Peter have my mother’s claws? Why not choose Cora?”

Peter huffed and capped the jar that had the triskelion symbol carved onto the top and handed it to Deaton. “I’d be offended if I were anyone else, but I’m not.”

Deaton had an impassive look on his face as he walked over to the safe in the wall while he explained, “Only blood kin of an elder can be used to allow your mother’s claws to give back those particular types of memories.”

Peter gave Derek a smug look. “What? Do you think that I can’t keep a secret?”

Derek glowered. “I’m not keeping it a secret. I am done keeping this Visionary stuff secret.” He slipped off the exam table and pulled Stiles against his body and kissed him deeply. “I love you. Now please tell me how I got here.”

“I love you, too,” Stiles said and kissed Derek as though it would be their last, leaving them both breathless. “You wouldn’t wake up. I was so scared, I didn’t know what to do and the kids woke up because they felt my emotions and I think they felt when your heart stopped.”

“It didn’t stop completely,” Deaton countered while locking the jar containing Talia’s claws in safe. “It was just beating extremely slow.”

“I didn’t know who to call…”

“But he didn’t need to call anyone,” Peter picked up the conversation when Stiles’ voice broke. “Brianna and I were on our way back from the cinema and were on the road passing your house when I felt pulled there.”

Derek sighed, feeling a little guilty that he’d been so obviously against Peter being the one chosen to enact the ritual of wearing his late mother’s claws. “Thank you, Peter. And Brianna’s with the kids? 

Peter nodded and smiled. “An Alpha and a Visionary in one. The first of our kind, from what I saw.”

Deaton returned to stand next to Peter and gave him a distasteful expression. “Are you jealous, Peter?”

Stiles, though he was still very upset, couldn’t help but laugh at Peter’s answering expression; pure jealousy. He turned a serious look at Deaton and asked, “You wouldn’t answer me before. Did you know that I was Derek’s mate, way back when Talia first found out?”

“Life would not have been balanced if I'd kept that truth from you,” Deaton said.

“But you knew that Visionaries were real,” Derek pressed, not really asking. “You knew that it had to be an older relative for that type of memory transfer, so you knew of them.”

“I did,” Deaton admitted. “Talia confided in me that one of her children was a Visionary.”

“Didn’t you guess that it was me when you learned that Stiles and I are mates?” Derek wondered.

“That has little bearing, so of course I did not guess that,” Deaton said. “Though your mother gave me those envelopes and told me that they related to her children and their mates, I did not believe that it was because you were a Visionary. She specifically asked me to give all of her children various letters she wrote to you all at specific times in your lives. The one I gave you, along with the one I gave Cora, are those I kept in a specific folder in the safe box concerning your marriages. If I had suspected that for a moment it regarded to you being the Visionary, I would have made you look at them here, with Peter and the claws ready to help your subconscious.”

“I’m surprised my sister didn’t tell you about it in case of…” Peter trailed off and sighed. “I suppose she never imagined it wouldn’t be her that told Derek. And if it weren’t, I guess she imagined that another Alpha would tell him.”

“To my knowledge Laura did not know of the Visionaries,” Deaton said. “It was not up to me to bring that up with her when she had much more to worry about and for all I knew, it could’ve been her and she already knew about it. There are times that the Alpha to Visionary memories aren’t passed from one Alpha to another, that they skip a power transfer or two, it's not uncommon. All of the Emissaries for the Hales have known of each and every vision, but we rarely know who had it, or the details of the visions unless the Alpha chooses to tell us. Which is very rare.”

“What exactly happened to Derek?” Stiles asked. “I thought at first he was having a panic attack, but it wasn’t. What was going on with him?”

“His subconscious mind was battling itself, battling the magic that Talia used to take away the memories,” Peter explained. “Derek read something that was supposed to trigger a memory, but wasn’t there. His brain couldn’t grasp the memories, no matter how hard it instinctively tried and that put him into shock.”

Stiles and Derek both looked at Deaton to confirm what Peter had told them and the man nodded. “Who did you think was the visionary?” Stiles asked Deaton, curious.

“I believed that the Visionary was Derek’s older brother, Mathew,” the Emissary admitted. “When Talia told me that one of her children was a Visionary, it was shortly before Mathew met his mate, Bailey. They were so perfect for one another and met in such a peculiar way, I strongly believed it to be him.”

“I don’t understand why any of it was kept a secret,” Peter said, curiously. “I realize that the memories are taken from the young to stop them from doing something stupid, but why isn’t this made public, at least within the pack, if not to the rest of the packs? We would appear to be even stronger than we are if other packs knew we have this gift in our bloodline.”

“When certain wolves began to be born without the visions of their mates, it caused unrest and eventually it was decided that the Alpha would take the memories of the visionaries until they deemed fit to give them back,” Deaton said. “I don’t know more than that.”

Peter crossed his arms. “It figures.”

“Do you really want to tell people about this?” Stiles asked Derek. 

“Maybe we’ll keep it to ourselves for a little while,” Derek offered. 

“I agree,” Stiles said. “Our pack is awesome and supportive, but I know many of them are still shocked about us being mates. Maybe we can tell them after our honeymoon?”

Derek carded his hand through Stiles’ hair and kissed him soft and slow. “Maybe.”

“And just what am I supposed to give as the reason that you are here?” Peter asked, cutting into the intimate moment between Stiles and Derek. “I cannot lie to Brianna.”

“You may tell her the truth,” Derek said, then turned his attention once again to Stiles. “Who else knows that I was brought here?”

“No one,” Stiles said. “We decided not to say anything to the rest of the pack until we knew what was going on with you.”

“Good,” Derek said thoughtfully. “We’ll have to tell the kids something though. I hate that I scared them.”

“Brianna calmed them down before we left with you,” Peter told Derek. “She told them that sometimes Alphas catch colds like their Daddy and other humans do and that it made you really tired. We explained that we were going to bring you to Dr. Deaton for a check-up and that he’d help you get better. They seemed to believe it by the time we got you into the car. They were worried but had calmed down considerably.”

Derek looked at Deaton. “Are there any other envelopes that my mother gave to you that are for me?”

“Not specifically,” Deaton replied.

Derek’s eyes turned red immediately. “What does that mean?” he asked. “Am I going to receive another letter from her that contains information that will send me into shock again down the line?”

“No,” Deaton said quickly, appearing to be completely unaffected by Derek’s eyes shifting colors. “That was the only personal letter written to you. I know of the contents in other items she gave me and if and when they ever need to be given to the appropriate persons, I will give them.”

Derek growled, “I’m the Alpha and if you have things that belong to my family…”

“Derek, please, not now.” Stiles put his hands on Derek’s shoulders and stared into his eyes with a pleading look. “Let’s just leave it alone for the night, okay? You can come here tomorrow and question him all you want. I just want to go home, crawl into bed with you and the kids and get some rest. Okay?”

Derek rested his forehead against Stiles’ for a moment and muttered, “Okay.”

Peter made a noise that clearly was meant to sound like a whip cracking.

Derek took advantage of his super strength and speed. He pushed the exam table backward and at an angle, the table’s height being perfect to knock the corner of it directly onto Peter’s crotch, sending the man to his knees.

“I guess that answers the question I never asked about whether or not werewolf abilities also encompassed supernatural di…” Stiles stopped talking when he saw Derek staring at him with wide eyes. “Right,” he said, nodding slowly. “Knotting. Yeah. I guess werewolves do have supernatural penises.”

“Just… not… when… it… comes… to… healing,” Peter panted, glaring up at them both.

“I can give you a tranquilizer to help with the pain,” Deaton offered.

“Fuck you,” Peter said, slowly rising to his feet, his hands still cupping his junk.

Stiles pulled Derek past them both. “Let’s go. I want to go home already.”

“Me too.”

“I have the keys,” Peter said, visibly shaking a little. “We took my car, remember?”

“Fine,” Stiles sighed. “Hurry up and heal your dick already. I’m tired.”

“You’re welcome for saving…” Peter gingerly took his keys from his pocket. “For saving your mate’s life, Stiles.”

“Thank you,” Stiles said and patted Peter’s back. “I appreciate it.” He looked over his shoulder at Deaton. “Thanks.”

Deaton nodded once and the three of them left the office. Derek and Stiles were ready to be surrounded by the kids in the safety of their home. Peter was ready to get back and have Brianna bitch Derek out for hurting what she deemed his best asset.

To Be Continued in Chapter Fifteen


	16. Chapter Fifteen: "Paths"

**Chapter Fifteen: “Paths”**

_If two points are destined to touch, the universe will always find a way to make the connection - even when all hope seems to be lost. Certain ties cannot be broken. They define who we are - and who we can become. Across space, across time, among paths we cannot predict - nature always finds a way._ ~Savi Sharma

 

“You’re nervous,” Derek said, his tone barely heard over the shower spray. He trailed the soft washcloth down Stiles’ back and breathed in the crisp woodsy scented body wash mixed with Stiles’ unique scent and if it weren’t for the dozen people occupying their home and awaiting them to finish, he’d be licking all over every inch of Stiles’ clean skin.

“Not about being mated,” Stiles said after a long minute of silence. He turned in Derek’s arms and kissed along his clean-shaved jaw. “I can’t believe you shaved your beard off.”

“You’ll appreciate it later,” Derek told him. “I’ll probably shave again later tonight.”

Stiles laughed and backed into the direct spray of water and blubbered, “Is it because you plan on rubbing that insanely hot face all over me?”

Derek watched as the suds fell away from Stiles’ skin, leaving only clear water sluicing its way down his lithe body. He’d licked and touched just about every part the water was now touching, but he was hungry to do it all over again.

Stiles stepped out of the spray, opened his eyes and looked down at Derek’s cock. “You really need to put that thing away until later. I know the master suite is soundproofed, but no lock will stop Scott from busting in here if he thinks we’re taking too long.”

Derek dropped the cloth to the bottom of the shower and pulled Stiles in by his hips so that their slippery bodies pressed against one another. Their wet hard cocks slid against each other and Stiles immediately squirmed his hand in between them and caught hold of them both. “We have to be fast,” Derek said. He dragged one hand up Stiles’ spine until he cupped the back of his head and tilted it to the side. His mouth was open as it met with Stiles’ open mouth, hot breath gasped onto his tongue. He felt Stiles’ free hand scrambling up his back and then down again to grip his ass and he spread his legs a little to give him better access.

“Fuck,” Stiles moaned, pulling his mouth away from Derek’s as he moved his hand on their cocks faster.

Derek’s head fell onto Stiles’ shoulder when he felt two fingers dip between his ass cheeks. “Yeah.”

“This what you want?” Stiles asked, mouth next to Derek’s ear.

Derek jerked his hips and felt the tip of one of Stiles’ fingers tease his hole. “Yes.”

“You’re so hot for me,” Stiles said, voice husky, as he slowed his strokes of their cocks to focus on entering Derek with his fingers.

“Stiles,” Derek growled, not in the mood for teasing. He moved both hands down between them, encasing Stiles' hand in his making the grip tighter, and began to sloppy jack them off, impatiently speeding the tempo up a bit.

Stiles laughed evilly, continuing to dance his fingers around Derek’s wet rim, even though Derek’s movements was making it next to impossible to keep his fingers where he wanted them. His hips were dancing a bit on their own accord and Derek’s perfect hand job technique was beginning to take its toll. “You know that I’m not going to be the only one claimed, right?” He bit the spot just under Derek’s ear. “Tomorrow morning, you’re going to wake up with me….” Stiles grunted as Derek’s fist sped up on his cock and his knees started feeling week. He pushed his two fingers into the welcoming warm hole as he finished his sentence, “sliding inside you.”

Derek barely had enough sense to pull Stiles against him as his back crashed against the tiled shower wall. Stiles reached out to grip the shelf to the side, but mostly fell into him, pushing his fingers deeper into Derek, causing him to press directly onto his prostate. Derek came, growling loud as his body shook apart from the inside. He heard Stiles groan just a moment later and felt the come join his own in the tight space between them, each after tremor that shook their bodies blending it further.

  
~*~

Scott crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head at Stiles. “You couldn’t wait until tonight?”

Stiles scoffed and pulled his suit pants off the hanger. “Shut up and come help me dress.”

“So your orgasm reduced you to a three year-old?” Scott said, still looking displeased as he leaned against the guest room’s door where Stiles had chosen to ready himself for the wedding. 

Derek and he weren’t superstitious, evidence of that being that they’d slept in the same bed last night and had seen more than a little of each other that morning. There was nothing in Derek’s family’s rituals that called for them to dress in their wedding attire separately, to not see one another until they walked down the aisle, but that’s how his mom and dad had done it, so he wanted it like that as well. “Don’t dumb down my kids. They’ve all been pretty apt at dressing themselves before they turned three. I want you to help me tie my bowtie.”

Scott snorted and finally dropped his pissed off façade and picked the silky piece of fabric up from the dresser. “I can’t believe you’re choosing to wear a bow tie.”

“I think I’ll take Lydia’s fashion advice over yours,” Stiles said.

“Hey!” Scott ran his hands down his pressed dark grey suit. “I do just fine on my own.”

“Please,” Stiles said, rolling his eyes. He bounced on his feet as he pulled up his black dress slacks and zipped them. “Melissa picked out that suit for you. My dad told me you asked her to go shopping with you because Allison refused to do so while nine months pregnant.”

Scott shrugged. “I’m just glad she's had a month since Bella’s birth. She was practically back to being the same size as before the pregnancy two days after she gave birth in my eyes, but to hear her tell it, she was a beached whale up until last week.”

Stiles grinned and slipped on his deep maroon shirt. “Dude, I’ll never get over you two naming your daughter Bella. I thought Allison was kidding when she said that she was going to do that.”

“Shut up,” Scott said. “I had no say in the name if it was a girl, you know that.”

“Please,” Stiles scoffed. “She loves Twilight so much that she would’ve made you name him Jacob or Edward if it were a boy. Just promise me that you will put your foot down if she tries to name your next girl Renesemee.”

“You’re one to talk,” Scott said. “You’ve named your children after…”

Stiles paused in buttoning his shirt and raised one eyebrow. “Huh? You gonna say something mean about me naming my Klaudia after my mother, my pra babushka who spelled her name just like Klaudia and after Sophia’s mother, Katherine?”

“I wasn’t…”

“You know that as the first male and female werewolf born into a pack, the Alpha traditionally chooses the names. Do you know that Derek named Danika?” Stiles asked, resuming buttoning his shirt.

“No,” Scott admitted and sat down on the bed, twirling the bowtie nervously between his fingers.

“Well he did,” Stiles said. “It was between that and Reece, Sophia wanted Reece, but Danika is my babushka’s name and…”

“Derek liked you best so he chose that one,” Scott interrupted, grinning widely.

“Possibly,” Stiles said. “But can you imagine her as a Reece?”

“I would’ve gone around calling her Recce's Pieces,” Scott admitted.

“Everybody would’ve,” Stiles said. He sat next to Scott and began to pull on his socks. “I tried to tell Sophia that, but she didn’t care. She thought it’d be cute.” Stiles paused pulling up his socks and sighed. “Shit, I didn’t want to think about her today. Fuck, I feel so guilty and like being so happy with Derek and the kids is a betrayal… Jeez, there are so many things I feel about it…”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, Stiles.” Scott put his hand on the small of Stiles’ back and rubbed it. “Dude, it’s okay. You’re not betraying her by marrying Derek. You aren’t. Allison said something about Sophia after you guys told everyone about the kids being Hales…”

Stiles breathed out deeply and asked, “What?”

“She said that she thinks if Sophia knew that you and Derek were mates, she never would’ve done what she did. She would’ve wanted you both to be together.”

Stiles resumed putting on his socks and shook his head. “I don’t know if I believe that.” He picked up one of the black dress shoes and rubbed at the slight scuff mark. “I know you’re trying to help, but I just can’t think about that right now, not today. I shouldn’t have started freaking out about it, I told myself I wouldn’t.”

“You can’t help how you’re feeling, dude,” Scott said. “But I’m on board for getting you to think about something else. You haven’t told me about Arek’s name.”

That was a decent subject change and thankfully the origin had little to do with Sophia. “Arek is my Dad’s middle name,” Stiles said. “His grandfather gave him that name to honor a boy who helped get him and his family out of Poland and to safety during World War Two. It was supposed to be my first name, that’s what my dad wanted, but because he was still hoping that my dziadek would someday like him, he decided to give me his name.”

“Did that work?” Scott asked.

Stiles tied his shoe and laughed. “Nope. My mother was his only living child. My babushka had lost four children in pregnancy or in early infancy before she had my mom. He was fiercely protective of her and I can tell you right now that if my Dad wasn’t a mix of Russian and Polish like my mom, Dziadek never would’ve given him his blessing to marry her. He never liked my dad and died shortly after I was born, so my dad didn’t ever really have a chance to show him how awesome of a guy he is.”

“He is pretty awesome,” Scott admitted and squeezed Stiles’ shoulder. “I can’t believe he’s so happy about you marrying Derek. We’ve all come a long way.”

“That’s an understatement,” Stiles grunted and stood up, holding his hands out to the sides. “How do I look?”

Scott stood and draped the ends of the black tie around Stiles’ collar. “You still have to put this on and your jacket.”

“Thanks,” Stiles said as Scott wrapped the material into a neat bow. “I can’t believe you know how to tie one of these.”

“That's courtesy of father and son bonding time,” Scott groaned. “Not that it bonded us at all.” He adjusted it once more and handed Stiles his jacket. “We’re brothers and you’re my best friend,” he told him. “But I can tell you in a totally platonic way that Derek’s mouth is going to water when he sees you.”

Stiles flushed and turned to look into the tall mirror attached to the back of the bedroom door as he righted his black suit coat. “I look old.”

“It’s an adjustment seeing you dressed up again,” Scott said, smiling at him in the mirror. “Everybody got so used to seeing you looking all snazzy and then you started dressing like your old self again and we got used to that. I think this is definitely the best of all your stylish clothing.”

Stiles brushed a piece of lint off one of his sleeves and did a full turn before looking in the mirror again. “The pants look a little too tight, don’t they?”

“You had them tailored to fit your body,” Scott reminded him. “I think they look fine.”

“You’re not mad that I asked my dad to be my best man, are you?” Stiles wondered.

Scott wrapped his arm around Stiles and rested his head against Stiles’ shoulder. “Not for a second. We’re brothers, but he’s your dad and he cried when you asked him to stand up for you. I get that you wanted him to be your best man, I really do. If I were close to my dad, like you are to yours, I would’ve asked him. But I understand, just like Lydia understood when Allison asked my mom to be her maid of honor.”

“Lydia only understood because she was pregnant and didn’t want to be subjected to whatever hippie looking dress Allison thought would be appropriate for a quickie wedding,” Stiles reminded him.

“True,” Scott admitted. “Hey, we’re forgetting something,” Scott said and walked to the door. “Your dad’s got your boutonniere. I’ll go find him and send him up here.”

Stiles grabbed Scott before he could leave and pulled him into a fierce hug. “Thanks, buddy.”

Scott smiled like a dopey puppy as he pulled away and patted Stiles’ arm. “I’ll see you out there.”

  
~*~

“I found something,” Peter said, walking into Derek’s office.

Derek looked up from the piece of paper he was writing on and winced. “Do I want to know what it is?”

Peter smirked. “It’s a family heirloom.”

That piqued his interest and he set the pen down and asked, “What is it?”

Peter shut the door behind himself and walked over to the desk. He sat down on the corner of it and handed Derek a small wooden box that had a triskelion carved into it. “What's in this box is passed down to every mate of the Hale Alpha. The last one to own it was your father.”

Derek held the heavy box in his hand and tried to open the lid, but even when applying his added strength, he couldn’t open it. “Is this a trick?”

Peter snickered. “No. The Hale Alpha's mate is the only one able to open the box.”

“You’re serious?” Derek asked, still trying to get the top open.

“Completely. Give this to your mate after the ceremony.”

“What's in it?” Derek asked, trying to remember if his father ever had a cherished item that would fit into the tiny box like this.

“You'll see,” Peter said. “I’m surprised you don’t remember seeing your father with it.”

“I remember him wearing different things that looked old and having just as many old Hale relics that he kept on his shelves. I don’t remember this box or what’s inside it though.”

“Then you’ll find out when your mate opens it,” Peter told him.

“Why do you have it?”

Peter sighed. “Like I said, I found it.”

“Where?” Derek asked, irritated.

“I _may_ have not so much found it as much as I told Deaton that I would give it to you. He brought this with him today and wanted to come give it you, but I thought this would be the perfect opportunity for us to talk.”

“We have nothing to talk about, Peter,” he said, gritting his teeth in annoyance. “I’m busy.”

“We should talk about why Deaton had that,” Peter said. “Amongst other items he still keeps under lock and key.”

“I don’t think I want to know what else my mother kept from us,” Derek said.

“Still smarting over the feelings and the visions, Derek?” Peter asked, though he knew the answer.

“Still upset that you’ve never had either?” Derek countered, raising an eyebrow in question.

Peter shrugged. “What good did it do you? As you didn’t remember it and you weren’t ever told that you were a very special Hale you had no idea that your feelings were stronger than any other werewolf’s.”

“If I had been told, the children wouldn’t exist,” Derek spoke aloud the words that had become a mantra since he’d read the shocking letter his mother had written on the day of Stiles’ birth.

“All these secrets,” Peter said, and made a tisking noise. “Just think, if you had known you were so special, you wouldn’t have fallen for Paige or for Kate.” He gave Derek a pointed look. “It’s good to know the children are Hales, but I know what else would have been prevented had you never fell for Kate. Can you honestly say that the children being here are worth more to you than everyone we lost?”

Derek abruptly stood, grabbed the lapels of Peter’s suit and pushed him against the wall. “You fucking know they are!”

“Good answer,” Peter said, and sagged a little while baring his neck, giving in to Derek’s Alpha dominance. “I just wanted to make sure you knew it, because you can’t go back and change anything and you should really stop being upset about it.”

Derek let Peter go, annoyed at his uncle’s tactics, though grateful at the same time. He slipped back into his chair and picked the box up again, trying once again to recall what could be inside.

“If you’re going to brood about something today, because apparently even your own mating ceremony can’t stop you from that, you should contemplate what you need to do to fix your communication problem with Dr. Deaton.”

“I don’t think…”

“Ask yourself Derek, why does he know things about our family that even I don’t? Why haven’t you in all these years as an Alpha gone and asked him for all those documents and items he keeps from your mother?”

“I asked for the diaries,” Derek said. “He’s the Emissary, it’s his job to keep…”

“Do you not think that your mother had her own copies of the records that Deaton has?”

Derek grumbled, “Of course she did.”

“So should you. No matter what your mother intended to do with the letters she gave Deaton, the things are in his safes and the documents in his file cabinet, you are the Alpha of the Hale pack and you are entitled to know about every single item when you ask to see them. Why does he have so many of our family heirlooms that we thought were lost in the fire and yet says that your mother wouldn’t want you to have them? Alan Deaton is creepy…”

Derek barked out a laugh. “You are calling someone else creepy! You?”

Peter ignored that and continued, “He is creepy in his obsession with doing everything your mother asked to preserve her memory. Probably because he is suffering from an even longer case of unrequited love than you did. The problem with following what he claims to be her rules, is that the world is a different place than my dear sister ever imagined it would be when she made her will and gave him all these sentimental and silly stipulations. And then there's the fact that he doesn't trust you.”

“And just how am I supposed to earn his trust if I haven’t already after all this time?”

“Talk to him,” Peter said simply, shrugging his shoulders.

Derek scoffed. “Oh, because that always works out well.”

“There must be something you’re lacking as an Alpha. He didn’t have this communication problem with your mother.”

“That was obviously because of his feelings for her. So, is this the part where I ask you to tell me what you think, as you so kindly say, I’m lacking?” Derek asked.

“Oh,” Peter said, drawing out the word and shaking his head side to side. “You don’t want to open that can of worms.”

“Would you like me to kill you now or after the ceremony?” Derek quipped.

“Would you like me to give that back to Deaton?”

“Like you could,” Derek said. “I can feel the magic on it, can feel it like it’s a part of me. I’ll be able to find it no matter where it is now.”

“That magic is precisely why Deaton was able to find the things we thought were buried under the house’s ruins or burnt to ash in the fire. He can feel the magic and he can sense where powerful items tied to the Hale pack are located.”

Derek placed the box down next to the piece of paper he’d been writing on and mumbled, “I suppose I’ll have a discussion with him about this after the Honeymoon.”

Peter gave Derek a satisfied smile. “What is that you’re writing?” he asked, peering at the paper on the desk.

Derek tried to cover it with his arm, but Peter was too quick and snatched the paper from him. “Give that back!”

Peter turned away and looked at the paper. “You still haven’t written your vows? Really, Derek, for as long as you’ve been pining for him I would’ve thought you’d have written those years ago.”

“Give me that back and leave me alone, Peter.”

Peter placed the paper back on the desk in front of Derek. “There are specific Hale vows you know. I know that Stiles has many of our traditions represented, certainly you’ve included those.”

“We have, but I’m not writing vows.”

“Do tell what you are writing then, Derek. You know me and curiosity…”

“If you were a cat you’d have been killed thousands of times? Where's a which when you need her?” Derek quipped.

Peter folded his hands in front of him. “Come on, whatever it is, it’s making you frustrated and annoyed. This is your mating day and I’d think those would be the last of your emotions on this day.”

Derek scoffed. “Not two minutes ago you were saying that not even my …”

“Tell me what it is you’re writing, maybe I can help,” Peter interrupted.

“No. Go away.”

Peter sighed and shifted a little. “Derek, I know we’ll never be best friends like we were when we were kids…”

“Which is why Isaac is my best man,” Derek pointed out. “Most of the times you've been manipulating me and you weren’t ever really my friend.”

“I understand why you would feel that way,” Peter said, genuinely. “I’m still your uncle. I might make jokes about you and tease you, but I still remember the day you were born. I remember holding you for the first time and I remember helping your mother sing nursery rhymes to you when you wouldn’t fall asleep.”

Derek could feel the true strong emotions coming off of Peter and he’d have to be made of stone to be unaffected by them. The rapid fluctuations in his personality, almost giving him an emotional whiplash, would never fail to perplex him. “This is personal.”

“Come on,” Peter said, and gave Derek a true smile. “Just tell me what it is.”

Derek sighed and muttered, “It’s a letter, to Stiles.”

“A letter?” Peter asked worriedly. “Please tell me you’re not planning on ditching this ceremony because…”

“Never,” Derek said, eyes wild and red. “I’d never do that to him. He’s my mate!”

“Oh, good, thank God,” Peter said, looking upward.

Derek laughed. “Right, or whatever supernatural deity it is that’s controlling all the shit in our lives.”

“As if you would ever believe that anything but the moon could have an effect on our fates,” Peter said. “What’s the letter for?”

“As you said, Stiles has been putting together the ceremony with all of our traditions. There are hardly any from his family that he wanted to observe, so I wanted to surprise him with one. Something that would be a tradition each year; something his parents had as a tradition.”

“Writing letters?”

“Yeah. When he was going through his mom’s things a couple of years ago he found letters both from his dad to his mother and from his mother to his dad. They were love letters, promises about what they wanted for their future together. They wrote them to one another on their wedding day and every anniversary after. He mentioned it to Sophia and… she…” Derek gripped the pen in his hand hard and had to drop it before it cracked and splattered ink all over his suit.

“She poked fun at it,” Peter surmised, voice low. “She was even more cynical than I am.”

Derek nodded. “At the time, I could tell it hurt him, but he brushed it off and stopped talking about it.”

“The same way he brushed off a lot of her bullshit,” Peter said. “Like we all did.”

“I don’t want to be mad at her for treating him like that, but I can’t help it. I keep telling myself that she loved him and that she wasn’t like that all the time. She wasn’t. I know that. I loved her, we all did, it was why when she fought with him in front of us or said shitty remarks, we forgave…” Derek paused and thought for a minute. “We acted like it wasn’t any of our business.”

“It didn’t hurt that we believed she was a Rosewood and knew her mate,” Peter said. “A wolf can’t stand to hurt their mate; we all know that, so we didn’t want to believe that he was truly hurt by the way she sometimes treated him. He's good at regulating his emotions.”

“Exactly,” Derek said, voice soft. “I know he’s not a romantic and neither am I, but he’s my mate, Peter. I want to show him that I love him. I don’t care if you think it's silly, or if Stiles laughs when he reads the letter and never thinks of writing one in return. I’m going to write this one and I’ll continue writing them to him on our anniversary each year.”

“You, my dear nephew are sickening.”

“Shut up.”

Peter smiled softly, walked around the desk and rested his hand on Derek’s shoulder. “That said, you also remind me a lot of your father and how he courted my big sister, as if they both weren’t fully aware that they were destined for one another. It too was sickening to watch, though it was also sweet. A word of advice?”

Derek rolled his eyes. “I probably won’t take it.”

Peter laughed under his breath and walked toward the door. “Tell him everything she could never say to him, because you’re his mate and he deserves to know how much you love him, even if you have to show it by writing sugary words of devotion. As cynical as Stiles may appear to be, I think spending months planning a Hale/Bennett traditional mating ceremony has trumped your letter writing as far as romantic gestures goes.”

Derek sucked in a deep breath of shock as he realized the truth in Peter's words and it was a little unnerving to acknowledge that the man could at times be extremely wise. He’d known that what Stiles was doing was a grand gesture, but he hadn’t thought of it as Stiles being romantic, as him using it as a means to express his devotion to his mate. Derek stared at the door as Peter closed it behind him and took a minute to soak in the revelation before he retrieved a new piece of paper, picked up the pen and let the words flow freely from within.

  
~*~

“Hey kid,” Noah said, entering the guest room. “How have you been doing?”

“Okay,” Stiles said truthfully. “It seems like time is passing so slowly. There’s still an hour before it starts and Melissa and Lydia have insisted that I stay locked away up here while they complete all the finishing touches.”

Noah grinned. “They don’t want you to stress about anything. I assure you that it is a controlled chaos downstairs and you are lucky to be up here away from it all.”

“That’s good to know,” Stiles said, but it was more of a question. He walked over to the windows that looked out the front of the house. “It looks so extravagant from up here,” he said. “Even though I can barely make out the details.”

“It’s just as extravagant up close out there,” Noah told him and put his arm around Stiles’ waist, joining him at the window to view the scene just outside.

A path made of lush dark green moss sprinkled with wildflowers started where the front yard's cobble stone walkway ended, draped its way over the gravel driveway and continued deep into the forest over freshly fallen colorful leaves. Twinkling fairy lights illuminated the path on both sides and at the entrance to the preserve two large trees, one on each side and iridescent with lights, welcomed you in and on to the area where the ceremony was to take place. 

You couldn't see much of the seating arrangement and arch that had been placed at the path’s end from their second-story vantage point, but an almost magical glow emitted from within the forest. From where they stood it all conveyed the feeling of Mother Nature herself and a million fairies, the kind you would find in children's movies, having blessed their wedding, rather than it being manmade.

“I’m getting married,” Stiles whispered. “Mated.”

Noah chuckled. “You just figuring that out, now?”

Stiles turned to his father and smiled. “It’s just so much different this time.”

Noah nodded and held up the boutonniere in his hand. “You ready for this?”

“Yeah,” Stiles said, and meant so much more than just being ready to have his father pin the boutonniere on his lapel.

The pack had gathered most of the flowers that was used in the wedding decorations throughout the preserve. That came from a Russian tradition of family members gathering the flowers that would be used in their loved ones’ weddings, but the boutonnieres were the same type of flowers his mother had had in her bouquet and most could not be found in the preserve. His father had ordered them from a local florist and when they’d came in two days ago, Melissa and Stiles had made the boutonnieres together. It felt right for it to be his father that pinned it on his jacket.

“It was different for me the second time too,” Noah said, once the small gathering of flowers was pinned in place. “But neither one was more meaningful than the other, just very different.”

“But for me, this marriage is more meaningful,” Stiles said and couldn’t muster the emotion to feel guilty about admitting it aloud. His relationship with Sophia gave him his children, so in that regard, the relationship would forever hold a significant meaning in his life, but the marriage itself, he realized now, hadn’t held the same meaning at all.

“I married humans both times,” Noah said, shrugging. “All this werewolf mating stuff sounds like it might be deeper than human love?”

“Actually, werewolves consider love to come entirely from the primal human part of them. They believe that there is nothing more powerful than human love. Even though werewolves may be destined for their mates and feel their primal wolf's instincts surge when first meeting their mate, marking them, or being with them, it's not love most of them are expressing the first time they meet. Love is a whirlpool of emotions that for many mates comes after they’ve made their mark or said their vows.”

“Thankfully that isn’t the case for you and Derek,” Noah said. “This is all new information you’ve been reading, or did Derek explain this to you? It sounds pretty intense.”

“You have no idea how intense it really is and neither did I until I started re-reading and discovering new passages that have been written about the mating bond. Derek helped explain some of the things, but there were a lot even he didn’t know. When we had all the crazy monsters running around Beacon Hills and I was constantly researching books and bestiaries, I never spent much time reading about mating.” Stiles laughed dryly. “Obviously. But then Deaton gave Derek a letter from his mother and we found out something huge.”

“Bigger than the meaning of the markings?” Noah asked.

“So much bigger, Dad. It’s crazy, but it’s real freaking supernatural evidence of us being meant for each other.”

“What more evidence do you need of you two being mates other than the marks?” Noah chuckled. “Which sounds crazy too, kid. I can hardly believe that any of this is real.”

“I know, I know. No matter how long I’ve been emerged in the supernatural world, which is basically just my natural world now, it seems that I’m constantly learning more about it. Like…” Stiles paused, feeling the weight of this knowledge envelop him now that he was about to say it aloud. “What we found out is that Derek felt and saw my existence the moment I was born.”

“What?” Noah asked, eyes wide and mouth hanging open for a moment. “Granted, your birth was especially life-changing for your mother and me, and I definitely felt your existence deep inside my heart the moment you were born, but…”

“It’s real,” Stiles said. “You know how I told you about the Rosewoods and the mating stuff, right? Derek is special in his own way, a way different from the Rosewoods, he’s a Visionary.”

“Okay,” Noah said, nodding. “Is this about his morphing ability?”

Stiles laughed, loving how his father worded things regarding the supernatural. “No, it’s not about some of the Hales being able to fully shift into wolves. When it comes to recognizing their mates, the Hales are special, only not all of them, that’s why they’re called Visionaries. It’s something that happens and is kept a secret from everyone in the pack, only passed down from Alpha to Alpha when the power transfers. Important pack knowledge and memories of this are supposed to transfer too.”

“But they didn’t,” Noah said. “Laura and Peter didn’t know about it, and Derek…”

“After Deaton confirmed some things about why Laura and Peter didn’t know, I went back to him with more questions. He said that sometimes when the Alpha power is taken or passed because of traumatic circumstances, memories and knowledge cannot be passed with it.”

“But if Derek is a visionary, shouldn’t he have known about it before reading the diary?”

“If a werewolf isn’t a Visionary or an Alpha with the memories of others, they don’t even know it’s a real thing that could happen to them. It’s written into the Hale’s history and other pack’s stories purely as legend, assumed to have possibly happened in the very beginning of a specific unnamed family. No names of those who were special have ever been recorded in the Hale family books.”

“But why?” Noah asked.

“We found out more information in one of Talia’s diaries. At some point, the Hales began being born without this special ability and one of the Alphas thought it would cause less anger and disappointment for the ones not born with it, if they didn’t know it was real.”

“What exactly is _it_ that makes them special?”

“It appears to happen at different times in their lives from what we read of the unnamed wolves Talia knew about. The thing is, it doesn’t only happen to Hale werewolves, it can happen to the humans from the bloodline too. The four instances she specifically referenced occurred when the children were older, in their pre-teen or teenage years. The Alpha shares feelings and visions that the ‘special one’ has about their mate, even if they aren’t special themselves, they then take the memory away with their claws until they decide their wolf is ready to know.”

“What exactly happens to the Visionary?” Noah queried. “How do the other wolves not realize what’s going on?”

“It happens while they’re sleeping and they don’t awaken from them until the Alpha wakes them up. Derek saw me in your arms and in Mom’s arms at the hospital. He felt a surge of protectiveness for me and felt pulled to me. When Talia woke him up, he told her that he needed to go to the hospital and protect me. He told her, ‘He was born for me, Mommy.’ They talked about all he’d seen and felt and once he calmed down a little, she took the memories from him. In the letter, she mentions that she knew who I was right away because you were wearing your deputy uniform and…”

“I wasn’t wearing my deputy uniform,” Noah interrupted. “You’ve seen the pictures of me holding you…” He stopped talking and his eyes lit up. “I changed my shirt just before the pictures were taken, I remember now. Your mother wanted our first pictures together to look nice and my deputy uniform was wrinkled and stained with coffee.”

Stiles smiled, loving that he was learning a new piece of information about his mother. “Talia planned to return the memories once Derek turned sixteen, but many things in his life went wrong and it never happened.”

“Wow,” Noah whispered, thrown. He moved away from the window and sat down on the bed. “How are Derek and you dealing with knowing about all this?”

Stiles shrugged. “We can’t change what's happened and she had good intentions that are pretty reasonable. You know how intense this mating bond is, Dad. I told you stories about werewolves being unable to stay away from their mate. What would’ve happened if he had those memories and couldn’t stop himself from being pulled to me? He could’ve walked out of his house in the middle of the night and wound up in the hospital nursery trying to take me away and not even understood why he felt the need to keep me with him, other than knowing I was his. It would’ve been crazy and dangerous.”

“Are you serious?” Noah gasped, rubbing a hand over his face. “He could’ve tried to just take you?”

“I’m completely serious,” Stiles affirmed. “Plus, if we’d known about it before, Danika, Arek and Klaudia would not exist.”

“True,” Noah said, thoughtfully. “Does Derek have the memories of everything now?”

“Yes,” Stiles said. “Peter used Talia’s claws…”

“Her claws!” Noah shouted, grimacing.

“Long story, but yes,” Stiles said. “Anyway, another elder werewolf of the same bloodline can use them the same way the Alpha once did, and return the memories to the wolf they were taken from. Peter used them on Derek and he got the memories back.”

Noah hung his head and spoke dryly, “I can’t believe you’re marrying into this insane world.”

Stiles laughed. “Technically, this is the second time I’m marrying into this insane world.”

Noah looked up and gave his son a tiny grin. “Right, because you were born for Derek and I suppose anything my human, rational brain could ever come up with, could never compete with evidence of supernatural marks, feelings and visions.”

“Nope, it couldn’t. I was born for Derek,” Stiles said, his heart picking up its pace as he walked over and sat next to his dad. Talking about this with someone other than Derek, Deaton or Peter was replacing the shock he’d felt then, with absolute pride and awe. “I mean… it could’ve been anyone, but it was me. I was made for him and he in turn was made for me. It’s something stronger than just love, or fate. It’s said to come from the pull of the moon, which is technically not even a thing, but it is in this world we live in. It bound us together the moment I was born.”

Noah draped his arm across Stiles’ shoulders and tilted the side of his head against his son’s. “So all this stuff today is merely formalities?” he joked.

Stiles laughed, shoulders shaking. “No, now we’re going to publicly recognize and then privately seal the bond.”

Noah jumped up and away from Stiles and stared down at his kid. “Seriously? You’re gonna make me think about that? You should be ashamed of yourself.”

Stiles outright giggled and fell back onto the bed. “That’s what you get for not locking your bedroom door that time…”

“You knew that I was taking Melissa on a date!” Noah protested.

“It was so much more than a date,” Stiles said, the memory of that traumatizing and embarrassing situation causing him to instantly stop laughing. He stood from the bed and fixed his clothes. “You told me to come get leftovers out of your fridge not an hour before you two were…” He visibly shuddered. “In the living room! A date doesn’t happen in the living room, Dad!”

Noah, that had been using the rooms full length mirror to adjust his clothes, gave him a glare using the mirrors reflection. “It’s not my fault you didn’t read the entire text, which told you to get them the next day.”

“Okay, okay,” Stiles amended. “We have got to stop talking about this right now. I can’t think about this when I’m about to get married.”

Noah snickered. “Tell me the truth, are you more excited about the wedding or your honeymoon destination?”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “I’m more excited about the _marriage_ and with that comes the wedding. But yeah, going to the Yucatán Peninsula has always been a dream of mine! It doesn’t hurt that we have a great alliance with the Chun Alpuche pack and they happen to own a beautiful secluded resort.”

“What time tomorrow is your flight again? Melissa said something about taking the kids to a movie but we want to be sure we’ll be home when you and Derek come to say goodbye.”

“Our flight out is at four,” Stiles reminded his father. “We were thinking we’d come by your house around one and bring a late lunch. We can stay for a little while, but we’d need to be on the road by two. Is that all right?”

“Yes and Melissa wanted me to tell you that she’s already packed the kids’ suitcases into our trunk, so you don’t have to worry about giving us those after the ceremony.”

Stiles thought for a moment about all he’d packed and hoped he’d given his father everything he, Melissa and the rest of the pack might need while they cared for the children for the coming week. “Oh, did Derek give you a key and the pass code to the safe room?”

“He did,” Noah said. “I saw him just before I came up here and let me tell you…”

“He’s nervous?” Stiles guessed.

Noah chuckled. “No. I was going to say, he’s floating on air.”

Stiles’ guffawed. “Are you serious?”

“Yes,” Noah told him and glanced at his watch. “I think we can head down now. ”

“Yes!” Stiles said adamantly, brushing past his father. “I need to go find my hot husband to be and kiss him until I’m floating too!”

“I think you already are,” Noah replied, grinning widely.

To Be Continued in Chapter Sixteen


	17. Chapter Sixteen: "Join"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated Chapter 15 / Entry 16 earlier so make sure you read that first.

**Chapter: Sixteen “Join”**

_When you have once seen the glow of happiness on the face of a beloved person, you know that a man can have no vocation but to awaken that light on the faces surrounding him. In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.” ~Albert Camus_

 

Derek had spent a long, long time silently pining for Stiles, while doing all the cliché things that one does when the person they’re powerless to stop loving is happily in love with someone else. His love for Stiles had never belonged in a romantic comedy; it was far more real and complicated. There were hundreds of things Derek did to make sure Stiles had a happy life that went above and beyond the idea of ‘if you love someone, set them free’. The one thing he hadn’t done, not once, in all the years he'd spent ensuring Stiles’ happiness, was believe that there were a possibility that he’d ever have a chance to be with him.

Even though they’d been happily together for months by now, and it was clear to Derek that Stiles loved him, along with him knowing they were mates, it was hard for him to believe that what was happening was real. This was his wedding day, a day that even after learning that Stiles was his mate, he didn’t imagine experiencing for a very long time, if ever.

Stiles’ hand tightly held his and their bodies casually leaned into each other as they walked from the front door of their house and across the soft mossy pathway. “Wow,” he spoke in awe, getting his first look up close at the setting.

“Do you like it?” Stiles asked.

Derek looked at Stiles’ face, which was much more beautiful than the scenery, and he nodded. “It’s beautiful.”

Stiles pecked a kiss to his cheek. “It’s even more amazing than I planned it to be.”

“Yeah,” Derek agreed, his eyes only on Stiles. The setting sun, combined with the twinkle lights made Stiles’ pale skin glow and his honey-colored eyes sparkle. Reality hit him in that moment. This was real, he was walking down the aisle with the man he loved, moments away from marrying him. Derek was going to have what he never thought he would, his mate, his Stiles. 

When they first began the wedding planning, there were many different traditions they could incorporate into the ceremony, but they wanted to make their own as well. They decided to go against having a traditional wedding party, and wanted the majority of their walk in the forest to be just the two of them. There was no music playing, just the sounds of the nature and the murmurs of the guests awaiting them. It was a peaceful, happy start to what was already the happiest day of Derek’s life.

After the short walk, they came upon the ceremony space. Fallen trees, leaves, and stray brush had been cleared, but most of the surrounding nature was left untouched. The lights, outdoor heaters and tents were camouflaged with tree limbs, ivy, moss and flowers. Their guests stood from their rustic wooden chairs, log benches and tree stumps, that together created a circle. In the center was a dais made from some of the fallen trees they’d cleared. The same lights that had trailed on each side of the path rose up high into the trees, but a bunch trickled down above the center altar in front of the arch as a chandelier made from hundreds of small lights. It was breathtaking and though Derek had input in the wedding planning, had seen the sketch Stiles had made of the scene, he’d had no idea how grand it would turn out to be. 

The path from the forest thinned as it neared the first row of guests and they walked between their pack, friends and family. It was hard for Derek to look away from Stiles, especially now bathed in the soft glow of a million small light, looking so sublimely happy and with an enchanting smile on his lips, but he knew it was important to look at the guests, smile and acknowledge them. It was because of their support over the years, especially this last one, that they were able to be here today.

Noah and Isaac stood to the sides of the dais and Derek could see tears at the corners of the Sheriff’s eyes as they approached. Cora stood next to Isaac holding Klaudia on her arm and holding Arek's hand with the other while Danika stood in front of Noah. As they reached them, Klaudia wiggled in Cora’s arms and demanded to go to her father, while Arek and Danika broke their stance to wrap their arms around Stiles’ legs. Cora handed Klaudia off to Stiles and buried her face in his chest, crushing his boutonniere.

“Do we getta throw pretty flowers now?” Danika asked Stiles. Her question made all the guests ‘aww’ at her adorable query. 

“Not yet,” Stiles told her. “First, Derek and I are going to get married, remember?”

“Uh,” Arek complained and kicked at the dirt.

Derek patted the top of Arek’s hair. “You guys have been very good waiting here for us, if you can wait just a little longer, you’ll get to walk down that big aisle with Daddy and me while Danny and Madison play music and everyone cheers.”

“Soon?” Danika asked.

“Yes, it will be soon,” Stiles promised and bent down to kiss her cheek and then Arek’s. “After that we’ll have cake and dance.”

The children grew excited hearing those prospects and Noah was able to lead his two oldest grandchildren back to stand with him, and Klaudia let herself be passed back into Cora’s arms. “Are you ready, Alpha?” Stiles asked Derek, once again taking his hand.

“Absolutely,” Derek replied and they stepped up onto the platform where Deaton was waiting for them.

“Welcome,” Deaton greeted them, and then once again, this time looking around at the guests. “Welcome.” He held an old leather bound book in one hand and touched first Stiles’ and then Derek’s shoulders with his free one. “Before all who is gathered here, it is my honor to officiate this marriage between Derek Hale and Stiles Stilinski. As per the bonding rituals of the Hale family, I shall begin by asking you all to remain standing while I read a passage that has been read during every Hale bonding ceremony on record.”

“Wait,” Stiles said, before Deaton could open his book. “Can I say something, first?”

Deaton gave Stiles an amused smile. “Of course, Mr. Stilinski.”

Stiles nodded and turned to face the guests. “I know that it’s usually during the reception that the couple stops to thank their guests, but I really wanted to do that right now. I’m so glad you’re all here to share this day with us, it really means the world to have all of your support and I’m just really happy.”

The guests clapped and murmured encouragements and affections in response. “Shall we begin with the reading?” Deaton asked once silence fell.

Stiles squeezed Derek’s hand and grinned widely. “Yes.”

Deaton opened his book to a page previously bookmarked and began to read. “Finding one’s mate does not erase the past, but is a balance of bringing pieces of it into the present, and forming a future. The Hales use the triskelion to symbolize the ever-constant changes in life and pack. Destruction, Preservation and Creation. Alpha, Beta, and Omega. As mates, Derek and Stiles, must work together to maintain a balance in their relationship. You will find many different meanings for the three spirals as you continue your journey through life together. On this day, let us celebrate the past, the present and your future together.”

The guests clapped and cheered and Derek leaned into kiss Stiles, his thumb tracing an invisible triskelion on the top of his hand.

“You may all be seated,” Deaton directed the guests, “and we will continue with the vows.”

Stiles made a giddy noise and jumped on his toes, causing Derek to laugh and he asked, “Are you excited?”

“Of course,” Stiles whispered back.

Deaton turned to Isaac and then to Noah and asked each in turn for the rings. After handing them over to first Derek and then Stiles he said, “These rings symbolize the moon, as it is with its power and guidance that you found one another. Derek, place the ring on Stiles’ finger and repeat after me.”

Derek did as Deaton prompted, his fingers shaking a little as he worked to push the small piece of jewelry halfway down Stiles’ slender ring finger. He looked into Stiles’ eyes and spoke the vows that Deaton directed. “Stiles Stilinski, I take you as my Mate. I am eternally bound to you.” He pushed the ring the rest of the way onto Stiles’ finger and his heart rate skyrocketed. Distantly, he heard the sound of cameras clicking, and he knew he was probably making a goofy smile, but he couldn’t be bothered to care.

  
~*~

After the ceremony, Derek, Stiles, Noah and Isaac made their way back to the house, trailing behind the kids who threw flowers along the pathway,. Once there, they changed out of their formal attire before returning to the forest to enjoy the reception party.

It was a warm October evening and with the outdoor heaters, it helped make the environment perfect. The whole pack, along with Wyatt and Henry, were in attendance and each and every one of them made their way to Stiles and Derek to offer their congratulations. The tent housed a small dance floor, along with a buffet of various foods. By the time it was time to cut the cake both Derek and Stiles were exhausted from all the socializing, as were the children. Eventually the kids got to eat the cake they’d been promised and Derek and Stiles decided they would say their goodbyes to everyone while the children were happily occupied.

They would spend their wedding night at a hotel in town, leaving Lydia in charge of managing the clean-up crew, and return to the house in the morning to get their vacation luggage before heading over to Noah and Melissa’s to say goodbye to them and the kids.

“Have an awesome time tonight,” Scott told Stiles, giving him a huge bear hug as they stood beside his car.

“I’m sure I will,” Stiles laughed in reply. “I didn’t get to make a speech or anything, but if I had, I would’ve made a big thank you speech to you.”

“For what?” Scott asked.

“I don’t think I ever actually thanked you for what you did. You’re the one who figured it all out, dude,” Stiles told him. “You’re the reason I walked into Derek’s bedroom and asked him if I was his mate.”

Scott grinned proudly. “I have to say, it was pretty cool being the one to figure something out first for once.”

Derek joined them and patted Scott’s back. “I’m saying thank you, too.”

“You’re welcome, too,” Scott said genuinely. “I’m just really happy that you’re both happy.” He looked towards the woods where the reception was still going strong. “I’ve gotta go. Allison’s calling me; Bella is getting cold so we’ve got to get her all packed up to go home. It takes like a half an hour to get her stuff together and get her in the car seat!”

Derek and Stiles laughed and then said in unison, “Imagine having three of them.”

Scott chuckled and hugged Stiles one last time before starting back towards the woods. “Good to have you guys back to your old selves, too!” he called out.

“Our old selves?” Stiles questioned Derek.

Derek shrugged. “I have no idea what goes on in Scott’s mind.” He pulled Stiles into his arms and backed them up against the trunk of the car, grinding his body against Stiles’. “You want to know what’s going on in my mind right now?”

Stiles pulled his husband even closer and proceeded to kiss a trail up his neck and around his jaw line. “Oh, yeah.”

Derek suddenly froze and backed away from Stiles.

“What?” Stiles asked, worried and a bit disappointed.

“Isaac and Henry are taking bets on whether or not we’ll make it out of the driveway before we have sex,” Derek said in a growl under his breath.

“You’re assholes,” Stiles spoke aloud. “Wyatt, control your beta!”

Derek looked to be listening for a response for a moment and then rolled his eyes. “Come on,” he said and pulled Stiles over to the passenger side of the car. “We’re leaving now because if we don’t I’m going to ban your friends from Beacon Hills.”

“Oooh, bossy,” Stiles teased, but quickly got into the car. He was more than ready to be alone with his husband.

  
~*~

Stiles really tried not to let his mind flash to the memories of his wedding day and night with Sophia, but there was suddenly no escaping them. Everything about Derek and his wedding day and how they intended to spend their night, was drastically different from the one he had shared with Sophia. He didn’t mean to, he wanted to stop, but it was almost as if every different detail breathed life into the details of the past.

“Is this not what you pictured?” Derek asked. “I thought it was the better of the two rooms because of the view, but we rented both, so we can stay in the other suite if you’d prefer that.”

Stiles didn’t know how long he had been standing in the middle of the luxurious penthouse suite. He processed Derek’s words and turned to face him, feeling like the biggest asshole in the world. “This is…” He’d seen the suite online when Derek had suggested booking them, both because they couldn’t have neighbors hearing their loud activities, but that wasn’t his problem. “I love the suite, Derek.”

Derek rubbed his hand over the back of his neck and looked at Stiles with a nervous expression. “Is it me? Was the whole carrying you across the threshold thing too much? I didn’t do it because I think you’re the bride in our marriage, I would’ve let you carry me if you could, I swear!”

Stiles’ pushed his melancholy aside and went to Derek, quickly pulling him into a hug. “No,” he said ardently. He kept his arms around Derek’s back but tilted his head up to stare into his eyes. “It’s definitely not you. You’re fucking perfect, Derek. I love you and you make me so fucking happy. I just… I’m stupid and I got caught up in the past.”

Derek looked even more worried now and he cupped the back of Stiles’ head, his fingers rubbing soothing circles on his neck. “We don’t have to do anything tonight. If you’re not ready because…”

“Ohhhh no,” Stiles interrupted and shook his head. “We are definitely doing _everything_ tonight. I’m ready. Like I said, I was being stupid. I did that thing where you tell yourself not to think about something and then suddenly you can only think about it.”

“You know you can talk to me about Sophia, right?” Derek asked.

Who on their wedding night, assures their new husband that they can talk about their ex and actually means it? Probably no one except Derek Hale. Stiles let out a long breath in awe as the feeling of all-encompassing love for the man in front of him swelled to reach a new, to him hitherto thought unattainable, high. In that one moment he finally fully registered that Derek, the man he’d once thought was so out of his league, still probably was, a man he thought he’d never have a chance with, loved _him_ just as much.

“And now you’re feeling excited?” Derek questioned, confused at the sudden, urgent, change in air.

Stiles grinned and pressed his lips to Derek’s. He slid his tongue into his husband’s mouth when Derek moaned, then swept his tongue against Derek’s in a languid back and forth caress. Deeply intoxicated by their kiss, Stiles separated his mouth from Derek's, their breaths ragged, to gaze into his husbands eyes. Slanting one leg between those of Derek's, he pulled him in even closer, squeezing his ass “I’m not just excited,” he said, grinding his rapidly filling erection against Derek’s. “I’m once again feeling so fucking lucky to have you as my Mate and becoming a bit overwhelmed with how in love with you I am and how grateful I am to feel just as loved by you.”

Derek’s kiss-swollen lips quirked and he rolled his eyes. “This wedding has made you into a romantic sap.”

“It’s your fault,” Stiles insisted and punctuated each word with a playful slap to Derek’s ass. “No worries though, I am also highly skilled at romantic sass.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Derek told Stiles, completely amused. “While you are being corny…”

“And yet, still horny,” Stiles said, rucking up Derek’s shirt and sliding his hands underneath.

“Right,” Derek said and kissed Stiles nose. “I have a couple of things to give you. One of them you’re going to think is really cheesy, maybe, and the other is a gift that have been passed down the generations to the Hale Alpha’s Mate.”

“Okay, we’re not gonna jump right into sexy times.” Stiles peeled himself away from Derek and ran a hand through his hair. “All right, okay. We’ve waited a long time for this; I can wait just a little longer to have you inside of me.”

Derek’s eyes blazed red for a fraction of a second. “It shouldn’t take long.” He walked over to where the attendant had placed their bags and dug into his duffle.

Stiles went over to the leather recliner and waited, his legs jiggling. “Hey, you said this gift is for the Hale Alpha’s Mate, does that mean that your father was given it too?”

“Yes,” Derek said, turning toward Stiles. In his hands he held an envelope and an old wooden box with a triskelion carved on its top. “I don’t know what it is and Peter wouldn’t tell me when he gave it to me. Knowing him, he actually doesn’t know what’s inside it, but wanted to pretend like he did to annoy me. The box itself is magical and only the Alpha’s mate can open it.”

“And the envelope?” Stiles asked, as Derek handed him both items.

Derek sat beside him and flushed. “The envelope is from me.”

“Then I’ll save the best for last,” Stiles said and put that beside him while he ran one hand over the box. “I think I feel the magic, there’s a slight vibration coming from it.”

“I believe that’s how Deaton was able to find a lot of our family heirlooms that survived the fire.”

Stiles easily opened the box and the vibration of magic magnified. What was inside wasn’t any of the things he imagined he’d find. Carefully, he picked up a folded card lying on top of a massive stack of envelopes and opened it.

_Alpha Mate, I welcome you to this very important position in the Hale pack. I hope that you will enjoy the happy memories, learn from the trials and share in the triumphs written in these letters and notes. You will find a pen in a small case under the stack of letters. Only you will be able to write with it, and other than this note, only you will be able to read the words written from previous Alpha Mates contained in this box. What you choose to share with your Alpha is up to you, as is what you choose to share with future Alpha Mates. Please write a welcome letter to them and place it on top, and discard this one._  
Welcome to the Hale Family,  
~Cade Bennett-Hale 

Stiles sucked in a sharp breath of air and looked up at Derek, tears clouding his vision. “Your father wrote this,” he told him and handed him the note.

Derek quickly read over the note and traced his fingertips over each letter on the page. It was heart wrenching to read the simple note. Now that he had the things from his mother, he could go and look at her writing whenever he chose, but this was the first he’d seen from his father. Unfortunately, it was also to be the last. He sat down next to Stiles and handed him the card back. “Can…”

“We’ll keep it,” Stiles said, wrapping his arm around Derek’s waist.

“Yes,” Derek said. “I want that. But that wasn’t what I was going to say.”

Stiles idly ran his hand up and down Derek’s stomach in the soothing manner he knew the other man loved. “What were you going to say?”

Derek cleared his throat and gave Stiles a hesitant look. “I… Well, I… Not tonight or anything, not until we’re back from the honeymoon, or whenever you want, really. But, would you… Do you think you can read them all to me? I know it says that it’s up to you…”

“Of course I will,” Stiles quickly assured Derek. He put the card back into the box, closed it and set it on the floor. Things were different than they’d been for other Alpha Mates. These letters contained some of the only memories Derek would ever get to hear about from his father and other family members. “I can read them now if you want,” he offered.

“No,” Derek said. “But I’d like it if you opened your gift from me.” 

Stiles gave Derek a bright smile and a loud smacking kiss. “That I can do! So many mysterious envelopes today!”

“Mine is not mysterious,” Derek said and sat back against the sofa, looking anxious. “Or exciting, so don’t get your hopes up thinking it’s something amazing because it isn’t. It really, really isn’t.”

“Shh, shh, shh,” Stiles said. “Let me enjoy this.” He opened the flap and withdrew a few pieces of paper folder together. He gave Derek a grin and wiggled his eyebrows as he unfolded it.

_Stiles Stilinski-Hale_

_I’m not good with words, but I’d like to think that I’ve gotten a lot better with them since we first met. I thought it’d be easier to write down what I want to say to you, to speak from my heart, but I don’t know that I could ever perfectly convey all that I feel for you. I would probably fill a million pieces of paper with sentiments and praise about you and they would never say enough. (I actually started to do that and tossed those out.) I could use that thesaurus thread app you put on my phone and write down all the words that spin a web containing the words: happy, love, grateful, and beautiful, but I’d still be lacking in the end._

_Please bear with me while I try to find some words to tell you about my love for you and to explain why I decided to write you this letter._

_Today, our wedding day, is a day that until recently I was certain would never happen. I could not allow myself to hope that it would come. Then EVERYTHING happened and I had proof of what I already knew in my heart. After a tough period of waiting for you, a time filled with grief and learning about one another, you agreed to be my mate. I don’t know yet what the ceremony will have looked like, but I know all you’ve had planned and we’ve already observed some of my family’s rituals today. I realize that you have done so much to make this day perfect, because not only do you want to honor my family’s traditions, but because you realize that blending them into our day is a way for us to have my family here with us._

Stiles glanced up at Derek, and the tears that had been in his eyes before released. “Derek,” he whispered and wiped away his tears with one hand, not wanting them to fall on the paper and ruin the ink.

Derek’s blush was now coloring the tips of his ears and he looked pensive. “Don’t you want to keep reading?”

“Yes, yes,” Stiles said, a lump forming in his throat. “You just…” Stiles shook himself a little and took a deep breath as he looked back down at the letter and moved to the next page.

“ _Many of my family’s pack traditions made it so we were unable to observe some of the things important to your family’s marriage ceremonies. I know that you’ve called it a compromise, but it is also a sacrifice. Though you are perfectly willing and happy to do so, I still feel as though you may be missing out and I don’t want that. You know that I want to give you everything. I know that’s impossible, but I’ll keep trying. This will hopefully be my first step in doing that._

_You told me that your mother and father exchanged letters to one another on every one of their anniversaries. I talked to your Dad about this and he elaborated on it. He explained that your mom missed having the written letters they had exchanged while he was in the Army and overseas during their engagement. Your father began writing her letters once again on the day of their wedding and the following morning your mother gave him one in return. After that, each anniversary, your mother would wake to a letter from your father and at night your father would read one from her in return before he went to sleep._

_I’m not sure if you’ll find this romantic, or sad, or just a little over the top. You are under no obligation to write to me, but this tradition, from me to you, I will start today._

Stiles wiped his eyes once again before shuffling to the final page. He felt Derek’s eyes on him, but he knew if he looked up at him before he finished reading, he’d become a weird mix of a horny and sobbing mess and never finish reading it.

_We’ve been through so much together, but we’ve always had each other and now it’s going to be official. You have me and I have you. We started our lives together a long time ago, but now we’re sharing a present and a future. I hope that I will be a good parent to our three children (or more if you ever want that). I want you to always feel proud to have me as your Mate. I am in awe of you, dumbfounded by the knowledge that you are truly mine. Some days I wake up with you next to me and wonder if I’m dreaming. I’m sure we’re going to argue, we wouldn’t be us if we didn’t, but we’ve also always been really good at finding common ground and moving on. I look forward to everything with you. Thank you for giving me the life and future I’ve only ever dared dream of._

_I love you, Stiles._

_Forever your Mate,  
Derek_

Derek’s face brightened and he gave Stiles a dazzlingly toothy grin. “You’re really fucking happy right now.” It was a statement spoken with a hint of confusion, but mostly elation.

“Yeah,” Stiles agreed and pulled Derek’s head down so their lips were a hairsbreadth away. He was a little unfocused as he tried to hold Derek’s gaze, but he didn’t want to look away until he finished speaking the vow that would begin their night, their lives together. “Derek Hale, you are my Mate and I want to give you my mark. I vow my loyalty and faithfulness to you. Will you accept my mark?”

  
~*~

Stiles bit his lip to stave off the whimper he felt coming from his very core. He’d had months to get used to seeing Derek naked, to catalogue in his mind how Derek looked when he lost himself in sex. He couldn’t get used it, didn’t want to and knew he never would. Derek Hale was an Adonis and his sensual body would be endlessly entrancing. Stiles was sure he had to have done something amazing in a past life to in this one be destined to be the mate of a man as beautiful, inside and out, as Derek Hale.

Derek was laying in the middle of the king sized bed, his beautiful warm ivory skin a stark contrast against the dark blue sheets beneath him. His thighs were spread apart, his long thick cock rising up against his defined abs, his muscular arms raised and his hands gripping the pillow under his head. His eyes were zeroed in on Stiles’ chest, which was rising and falling with his rapidly increased breath. “I want to mark you!”

Stiles nodded and brushed his shaking fingers down the side of Derek’s jaw and then across his lips. “I want that too, but first I have to mark you, and then you’ll mark me. You can wait just a few more minutes, can’t you?”

“Yes, oh, god!” Derek growled and turned his face away from Stiles and thrashed around on the bed. “You’ve got to hurry! Your smell, your… Fuck, Stiles! Everything about you is making me want to fucking do everything to you!”

“Okay, okay,” Stiles said, trying to remain calm. He probably should’ve headed Scott’s advice and waited until they had everything set up and were completely undressed before he’d spoken the vow to Derek. Though he couldn’t entirely be blamed because Derek had immediately spoken the words in return and that had triggered the euphoric pre-mating space they’d been plunged into.

Derek turned to face him again and within the movement, his features shifted to his beta form and his eyes blazed crimson. “I’m sorry,” he said, the words spoken sloppily through his fangs. “I should’ve waited until after you marked me.”

“It’s all right,” Stiles said. It would be all right. Derek Hale had more endurance than any other Alpha in the world. Being a human, he wasn’t feeling the euphoria as strongly, but he knew that would change as soon as he soothed the mark he was to give Derek. He withdrew a small knife with an obsidian blade from a leather case. “Just another moment,” he said softly.

“I’m okay,” Derek said with a small whine, muscles bulging as he forced himself to still.

The human Hales had always used this knife and cleansed it with a special mix called ‘Euphoria Oil’ before marking their mate. Stiles had found all the ingredients for the oil, but it took some time to mix up and he felt terrible for making Derek wait. He would’ve made it up days ago, but the ritual stated that the oil had to be fresh. Once again, he internally berated himself for not having the forethought to have at least unpacked all the supplies before speaking his vow.

“Calm down,” Derek said in a breathy tone, his hand reaching out to grasp Stiles’ bare knee. “It’s okay. I’m okay. It’s not like I’m…” Derek closed his eyes and moaned long and low before opening his eyes and giving Stiles a small smile. “I’m not in pain.”

Stiles held Derek’s hand with his free one and reached over to the bedside table to dip the blade into the oil and herbs concoction. He turned so that he knelt completely at Derek’s side and held the blade over the area of skin that he’d chosen to mark. The spot was just above Derek's pubes, along his right inguinal crease. It was one of Stiles’ favorite parts of Derek, and whenever he would lick there, Derek would come undone. If Derek went shirtless, he’d be able to see the spot peaking out of his waistband.

“Stiles,” Derek growled, drawing his attention.

“Sorry,” Stiles said, blushing furiously.

“You were thinking abo…” Derek sucked in a deep breath, his words lost as the blade cut his skin.

Stiles couldn’t look at Derek’s face, couldn’t focus on anything but his task. He used his left hand to steady his right as the blade effortlessly sliced into Derek’s skin. He held his breath in awe as he saw the skin separate, and a tiny amount of blood pooled out as he continued to make his mark. When he was finished, he let out the breath he’d been holding and felt a rush of euphoric adrenaline overtake him. “Derek,” he whispered, still staring at his mark, an S.

“Sooth it,” Derek told him. He reached down and took the knife from Stiles and threw it on the bedside table. His voice was slightly steadier than it had been a minute before. “Go on, mate.”

Stiles nodded as if on autopilot and then leaned down, his chin and neck brushing against Derek’s cock. He stuck his tongue out, which was salivating more than it had ever before, and flattened it over the beginning of the ‘S’, and continued until he reached the other end of the mark, the blood tasting sweet and salty. The skin closed and there on Derek’s skin, which had never known a scar, was Stiles’ permanent mark.

“Oh, fucking hell,” Derek groaned and sat upright, the barely controlled euphoria now more manageable. “You did it!” he praised, pulling Stiles against him and onto his lap.

Stiles tilted his neck to the side and moaned in delight as Derek gently bit him. “Fuck, it’s your turn…” He grunted in pleasure and grinded his body against his husband. “An’ it’s gotta be fast. I feel like…. Mmmmm fuck, I’m going to come… an’ come outta my sss… skin.”

“I know, I know,” Derek soothed, rubbing his hands up and down Stiles’ back. “But you won’t, I’m right here and I’m gonna mark you and then I’m going to claim you.”

“Then me you,” Stiles said, his head lolling back. His body was vibrating with need and he barely had enough sense to reach between their bodies and squeeze his erection to stop himself from coming. “It’s so fucking, intense!”

“It is,” Derek agreed, feeling Stiles’ emotions flooding into him. “I know it is. Come on, let’s get you on your back, I’ll mark you and then we’ll come together.”

“Is… You… the… the oil,” Stiles said, feeling loopy. “Cause you have’ta use it…”

“I know, it takes away all the pain and helps us not to bleed so much,” Derek said. “I’ll use it on my claws for you just like we talked about. Don’t worry.”

“Can’t even…” Stiles broke out in giggles as Derek moved him to lie on his back and it caused him to bounce on the bed. “Not feelin’… no bad here!”

“Good, that’s good,” Derek said, smiling down at Stiles with amusement. He dipped the claw on his right pointer finger into the oil and then held it over Stiles’ chest, just above his heart. “Can you be still?”

Stiles nodded and blinked slowly. “I’m gonna try.” And he did try, it was hard, but as soon as he saw Derek’s clawed finger hover over his chest he went motionless.

“You can breathe,” Derek told him, smirking a bit.

“Mmmkay,” Stiles said and closed his eyes. He felt pressure on his chest from the curving marks of a symbol Derek lazily painted with his fingertips on his skin all the time. When the pressure stopped, he quickly experienced the wet heat of Derek’s tongue going right over the mark he’d just made. It was soothing, the whole process was and with the euphoric pleasure, there hadn’t been an ounce of pain to feel. But the euphoria ebbed into a low thrum almost as soon as Derek’s tongue left his skin.

“Are you ready?” Derek asked.

Stiles opened his eyes and realized that his legs were wrapped around Derek’s waist. “Oh fuck, yes,” he breathed out.

Derek smiled fondly and uncapped the bottle of lube he’d somehow acquired. Stiles really didn’t care to ask when or wonder just how long he’d been laying in that blissed out state, not that he wasn’t still feeling blissed, but at least now he didn’t feel drugged. He keened when Derek pushed two fingers inside him. It felt so fucking good and it really didn’t feel enough. Yes, they’d been practicing, because Stiles would need to be stretched out when he took Derek’s knot, but two fingers usually gave him a pleasant fulfilling burn. Now, those two fingers were pleasing him, but they weren’t in any way fulfilling.

“It’s the mate space causing the euphoria,” Derek said, his words nearly whispered. He moved his fingers back and forth inside of Stiles, his other hand pressing onto Stiles’ hip to keep him from thrashing. “It’s natural that you’re so ready for me, your body is craving me.”

“Uh,” Stiles groaned and canted his hips as he began stroking his cock. “It is,” he gasped, a little embarrassed. “I thought it was going away though.”

“Your head is clear,” Derek said, “but the after affects make it so our sex will not be painful. Don’t you remember, we read about this?”

“Fuck, Derek!” Stiles shouted when his husband pressed against prostate deliberately. “I remember reading it,” he said through gritted teeth. “They didn’t say it’d be this intense. You… you’ve gotta know I’m ready.”

Derek pushed in another finger and twisted them inside Stiles, nearly causing Stiles to buck off the bed. “Shh, shh, shh, it’s all right,” he said softly.

Stiles glared at Derek. “Don’t shh me; you have no idea what this feels like. I want to come! I don’t have any idea how I’m holding back right now.”

“Okay,” Derek said as an apology, his fingers giving a few more jabs and twists inside of Stiles before pulling them free. 

Stiles turned over onto his hands and knees and wiggled his ass. “Please,” he moaned.

“Jesus,” Derek said with awe. “You are going to make me come before I’m inside you.”

Stiles looked over his shoulder and gave Derek a saucy grin. “Now you know how I feel.” He spread his legs a little further and hung his head downward. Through his legs he could see Derek stroking lube onto his cock. “So hot,” he groaned.

“Uh-huh,” Derek agreed and threw the lube to the floor. He moved in closer to Stiles, his hard cock resting in the cleft of Stiles’ ass. “You’re sure that you’re ready?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Stiles said, grinding back against Derek’s dick and groaning loudly as he felt the petal soft skin rubbing against his hole. “S’gonna be so fast.”

“It’s all right,” Derek assured. “Me too.” He slowly pushed into Stiles’ hole. “Stiles,” he groaned, stopping halfway inside him, the heat and tightness driving him to the cusp of orgasm.

“More,” Stiles pleaded. “More, Derek.”

Derek gathered the control he’d so valiantly held onto for months and used it now so he wouldn’t end this before he even got completely inside his husband. He slowly pushed forward, half-inch by half-inch, sliding his cock into Stiles’ heated depths. “So fucking tight and hot,” he growled against Stiles’ neck.

Stiles had pushed back into the slow glide and the further inside Derek had entered him the stronger his need for more consumed him. “Move,” he begged, feeling his body start to shake. He didn’t want to come yet, but he knew it would only take a few thrusts to get him there.

Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles’ waist and pulled them both backward so that his ass was on his heels and he had Stiles in his lap, his husband’s legs spread on each side of his thighs. “Shh,” he said when Stiles whimpered and licked a line up Stiles’ throat. “Just, just sit here with me for a minute.”

“Noooo,” Stiles groaned and circled his hips, grinding down onto Derek’s cock. “Move.”

“If I start moving now, it’s going to be over right now,” Derek said truthfully. Whatever control he’d had while pushing into Stiles had evaporated.

“So, okay,” Stiles said. “Just fuck me and knot me. Claim me as your Mate, Alpha.”

And that seemed to do it for Derek. A half of a breath later, Derek began thrusting his hips up and down, practically bucking Stiles’ body off of him; though he held him close with an arm around his waist. “You feel fucking amazing,” he breathed out against Stiles’ ear.

Stiles couldn’t form words. He just listened to Derek, listened to his body and moved with his mate as if on instinct. They fumbled to kiss, but managed to do so, if only at times having their tongues meet, it was enough. His eyes closed at some point, but reopened when he felt the pressure of Derek’s knot slip into him. Here, he felt a little burn, but it was so good. Almost distantly, he heard himself moaning Derek’s name, begging him to knot him and saying filthy things to drive their enjoyment up another notch. Then suddenly, all the pleasure he felt caught up with him and it seemed to catch up with Derek at the same time. Derek’s movements faltered and then stopped completely as the pressure on Stiles' prostate increased. A looping current of gratification erupted in their bodies and Stiles felt Derek coming inside of him, as Derek’s hand worked his cock, causing him to shoot streams of thick ropey come onto his chest.

They came down from their orgasms gasping in heaving breaths together and Derek gently maneuvered them to lie on their sides. Their bodies were still joined, giving off aftershocks that felt like miniature orgasms that had them shaking every couple of seconds.

Derek kissed the back of Stiles’ neck and traced the triskelion mark now permanently on Stiles’ chest. “I love you, Stiles,” he spoke in a groggy voice.

Stiles sucked in a deep breath and tried to speak, but couldn’t form words to say all he felt for Derek in that moment. ‘I love you’ just wasn’t enough. “I… Derek,” he said, his own voice hoarse from all the moaning and screaming he’d done. “Love isn’t even…”

“I know,” Derek interrupted and kissed his neck again. “I know. We’re connected now, forever.”

Stiles forced his tired body to move his free arm so that his hand could find Derek’s where it rested over his mark. He squeezed it and then pulled it up to kiss his fingers. “We’ve always been connected, Derek. We always will be.”

To Be Continued in the Epilogue


	18. Epilogue: "Love"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted Chapters 15 and 16 / Entries 16 and 17 earlier, make sure you read those first.

**Epilogue: "Love"**

_Life's journey is one big path with series of events. All these events are connected.”_ ~Lailah Gifty Akita

The Hales were unlike any other family. The differences reached beyond the most startling one; the majority of them being various supernatural beings that were all part of a pack. Other werewolf packs rarely took in Fae, Witches or Banshees and Alpha Mates rarely remained human. Derek Hale, the Alpha of the Hale pack, was a strong, thoughtful and selfless man. He wasn’t the average Alpha by any means, and after learning that he was a Visionary, with a little time and with Stiles’ support, he made his gift public knowledge in the werewolf community. The abilities he possessed had at a time only been thought of as fodder for fairy tales, but after Derek learned to believe in himself, the powers would grow stronger to be believed by all.

One night shortly after returning from his honeymoon getaway, Derek had his first vision as an Alpha. The images came to him just hours after falling asleep and though he was acutely aware of the fact that what he was seeing was not a dream he felt no desperate urge to surge into wakefulness and see to the pack mate who would be the next visionary. He’d experienced that connection between past Alphas and Visionaries, felt the sometimes terrifying and often elating feelings they shared because of the visions second-hand. What he saw and felt was so very different and unlike the other Alphas that had been consumed by the will to wake up and be with their Visionary. 

Derek’s vision was peaceful and his thoughts clearly focused on taking in every detail he could.

A blond boy, wearing khaki shorts and sneakers on huge feet that looked way too big on his small frame was running back and forth on a patch of grass at the edge of a tiny lake, large mountains in the distance behind him, the sun overhead in the clear blue sky. The boy didn’t notice him as he walked closer, he continued his run, going back and forth and at various intervals mumbling the words, “control, shift, delete”, which caused Derek to laugh aloud. He stopped just a few feet away from the kid and was able to see the boy more clearly. He looked to be about ten or twelve years old, had a dark golden tan to his skin and all the features of a werewolf in beta shift.

“Delete,” the boy growled out as he reached one end of his track and his werewolf features instantly faded. “Control”, he said, taking a long deep breath before turning and running back the other direction. When he reached the other end he said, “shift” and his features turned lupine again.

It was the accent in that last word that made Derek looks around him once again and realized where his vision had taken him to. He was somewhere in Australia, the large expanse of wilderness before him as far as he could see behind the lake covered in vegetation that fit the bush. He tried to use all his senses, but other than his vision and hearing they were all dulled.

Derek was startled by a creaking noise coming from behind him and spun to face its source, the sun blinding him from seeing the structure in the distance, but could still tell that it was unmistakably a house and that knowledge led him to believe it’d been the sound of a screen door opening. He held his hand up to his eyes to shield the sun, to see who had come outside, but was unable to.

“Luca James Corman,” a woman Derek couldn’t see called out. “Come inside and do your chores now or they won’t be finished before Arek calls and then you won’t…”

In a flash, before Derek could spare a thought regarding the woman speaking his son’s name, the vision ended and he was wide awake, sitting up in bed beside Stiles, who was still fast asleep. Though he’d been calm in the dream, being awake was completely different and panic gripped him. Fearing that Arek was having a vision of his mate at such a young age, Derek fled to his son's bedroom, not sparing the time to wake Stiles. Though this gift he possessed was now out in the open, he feared that he would have to resort to the same measures his mother had to keep Arek safe and happy. 

Derek was perplexed when he entered the hallway and heard nothing coming from Arek's room but his son's soft, steady breathing and his regular heartbeat. Unsure of how exactly the gift worked, wondering if he was alerted to the vision first so that he could be with Arek while he had his, he continued running down the hall and quietly entered his son's room. Derek silently paced beside Arek's bed, watching him sleep and waiting for him to wake, to show a sign that he had seen what Derek had. Long, agonizing minutes went by and Derek’s frustration and anticipation grew, causing him to release a low growl.

"Affa," Arek whispered in a sleepy voice as his big dark eyes opened and focused on Derek. "Snugs," he said and lifted his blanket.

Derek's adrenaline level plummeted as he realized that Arek was awake, and he felt like a shitty father for waking him, but he was happy to see that Arek appeared to be all right, showing no signs of distress or an uncontrollable need to be with his mate. Derek had no idea what had happed, but was too tired to figure it out. He crawled into the tiny twin bed next to Arek and let the little boy lay on his chest and promptly fell back asleep.

"Derek," Stiles called softly from the open doorway of their room. “Are you all right? Is Arek okay?”

“Yeah, we’re both fine,” Derek whispered back gazing down at the peacefully sleeping boy. He gently extracted himself from Arek’s hold, sliding his head onto his pillow and then tucking the covers around him before going out in the hallway to meet Stiles.

"Did he have an accident or a nightmare?" Stiles asked in a whisper. "I didn't hear him come into our room."

"No," Derek told his mate. "I had a vision. Or I think I did, but I’m sort of confused about it."

Stiles made a move to run back into Arek's room, but Derek grabbed his arm to stop him. "No, Derek, I have to make sure he’s all right,” he protested, shaking his husband’s grip.

"He didn't have one," Derek said. “I also have this extremely strong instinct telling me that he won’t.”

"But I thought..." Stiles sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "You're sure he didn't have one?"

"As soon as I woke from mine I went into his room," Derek explained. "He was completely asleep, peacefully, and other than noticing me watching him for a few minutes after I went in there, his sleep wasn't disturbed at all. I've been with him for hours."

"That doesn't make sense," Stiles said, and rolled his eyes. "Though supernatural stuff has its own rules and I suppose even those are often bent, broken or rewritten. Maybe you've done that by no longer hiding the fact that you’re a Visionary?"

Derek hadn't thought about that, but it held a lot of merit. "Like that passage my great-grandmother wrote in one of those letters in that box," he said. "What was it exactly? The one about changing magic?"

"She said, 'Magic, no matter its source, no matter its destination or original intention, is always changing, and werewolves are one of the greatest examples of evolution', or something like that."

“I think that was word for word, actually,” Derek said, proud to have such a smart mate. There had been so many meaningful letters from the Hale Mates, but Stiles seemed to have catalogued every word in them into his memory, often retelling the stories to Derek, or using a quote to cheer himself up or to chastise Derek when he felt it appropriate. "Visions are definitely magic, so it would make sense that this gift can also change."

Stiles leaned against the hallway wall and crossed his arms over his chest. "What exactly did you see?"

Derek paused for a second 

Derek explained the vision as well as he could remember it and elaborated, "I know I've never met the boy, I've never seen him before, but his name was sort of familiar. I don’t think the vision I had was completely real even thought it felt like it was. I think it was a vision that was maybe just showing me information I needed to know and hiding it within this really peaceful place. The woman who called to the boy said something about him being on the phone with Arek after he did his chores, but I think we know that’s impossible."

"And highly improbable that you’d have a mate vision that mentions some other child named Arek. Wait, are you sure she said, Arek and not Eric?

“Yes,” Derek said adamantly. “Even with her Australian accent it was clearly Arek. Then there’s the fact that the boy’s name…”

“What was it?” Stiles asked, standing up straight as his weary fear subsided and the need to figure out this mystery took a hold of him.

"Luca James Corman," Derek replied. "I think he must be related to..."

"James and Breya Corman," Stiles interrupted. "Alpha and Alpha Mate of the Corman pack in Perth, Australia."

"Luca is their son?" Derek asked. It was Stiles who regularly kept in contact with their allies and Derek knew that Breya and he were friends. Derek realized that he too should show more interest in all of the members of the various packs they were allied with, instead of just relying on Stiles to keep the ties and know the names of the pack members.

"Breya and James have three girls..."

"So a cousin?" Derek cut in.

Stiles' heart rate spiked and he jumped around a little. "Oh my god, Derek," he was excited, but tried to real it in. "They don't have a son... not yet, but it’s a possibility. Breya is due this week, but they were waiting to know the sex until she gives birth. What if... what if one of the talents you now have as a Visionary is seeing a mate the day they're born? Just like you saw me!"

It was very plausible. “Or maybe that’s just an added bonus.’

Stiles nodded before holding his hand up and telling him, "Be right back." It took only a few seconds for Stiles to go into their bedroom and come back out, walking down the hallway while his fingers tapped away on his cell phone. "I'm texting Breya."

"Don't tell her about the vision," Derek cautioned.

Stiles stopped in front of him and glanced up at him before looking back down at his screen. "Duh, dude. I'm just texting her and asking her how her pregnancy is going."

Derek had researched all he could about Visionaries, but until this moment it hadn't seemed real to him, no matter what memories of the past he'd been given or the stories he'd read. "Holy shit, it could be the future I'm seeing, not this day, but the actual future."

"Yeah, I think that's how this vision works," Stiles agreed. “I mean, you saw a preteen kid, and Arek could presumably hold a phone conversation with him. It makes more sense than you seeing a vision that’s purpose is to give you clues as to who the mates may be.” Stiles' phone dinged an alert noise and he looked back down at the screen and chuckled. He typed something and then held the phone up in front of Derek's face. "Are you seeing this?"

Derek stared, slack-jawed, because it was all really hitting him and this was proof. Or was it? "Who is that?" he asked of the tiny newborn baby wrapped like a burrito in a green blanket. The baby’s eyes were closed and there were little tufts of blond hair peeking out from a tiny pink and blue striped cap.

"That is Luca James Corman," Stiles said and took the phone back. "And with some calculations from the world clock, it looks like he was born at about 2:26 a.m. Pacific time."

“I remember glancing at the clock when I got out of bed,” Derek told him, awed at the facts coming together. “It was almost three.”

“So the vision may have started when he took his first breath,” Stiles spoke, tone filled with as much awe as Derek’s was. He pocketed his cell, put his arms around Derek and pressed their foreheads together and stared into his eyes. “We’re going to figure this out and Arek will be okay. For now, I think you should totally revel in the fact that you’re even more amazing than you were when you went to bed last night. A feat I would’ve sworn was impossible because I love you and think you’re amazing times like infinity anyway. Now though, you’re seeing the future, Derek. You’re like actually seeing our son’s future, and seeing the future of a baby boy who was born across the fucking world on another fucking continent. Do you get how awesome you are?”

Derek thought what he could do was awesome, he had to admit that, but he didn’t see himself as such, but was pleased that Stiles thought so. He let his head slide away from Stiles’ and rested it in the crook of his neck. Their lives would never be picture-perfect, but with a Mate as strong, loyal, loving and supportive as Stiles, Derek knew that they could live the life that was perfectly meant for them to have. “You’re awesome and I love you.”

Stiles nuzzled against Derek’s head and let his lips settle against his ear. “You’re a big huge sappy wolf,” he whispered.

Derek pulled Stiles tightly against him, grinding his interested cock into Stiles’ groin. “Something is wrong with me because I’m getting turned on for no reason at all.”

Stiles laughed quietly and playfully pushed Derek away from him. “Oh yeah? No reason?” He turned on his heal and with great exaggeration, sauntered his way back into their bedroom.

And before Derek could take a step to follow him he heard Arek shuffling around in his bed while whispering to himself about how he was hungry and had to go potty. His libido waned, but the smile he’d had on his face never left. He stood there in the hallway, listening to his family. Stiles had left the bedroom door cracked, so Derek could hear him mumbling to himself about patience, and he could hear the faint sound of Klaudia and Danika’s steady heartbeats, muffled by the classical lullabies they were fond of listening to at night. 

When Arek stumbled out into the hall, nearly tripping over Derek in his sleepy state, before declaring his intentions regarding using the toilet and then wanting breakfast, Derek was reminded of a similar morning that seemed so far away now. So much had changed for all of them since then. That morning he wouldn’t have allowed himself to truly imagine that he’d be here, that they’d all be here under the roof of the rebuilt Hale house, living a happy life on the grounds that had been in his family for centuries. He had barely been able to stand sharing the same room with Stiles, but now, evidenced by him feeling a pull toward their bedroom, he didn’t want to be in a room without him.

“Kid’s awake?” Stiles asked, standing in the middle of the bedroom while pulling on a pair of jeans.

Derek allowed himself to stare at him, to take in his toned physique and the way his muscles moved under his skin as he moved.

Stiles let out a snorting noise and rolled his eyes while walking over to the closet. “Granted I enjoy staring at you because you look like a God, but really Derek you should be out of the honey-moon googly eyes thing with me.”

“Shut up,” Derek whispered, laughing, keeping his gaze on Stiles’ body.

“You’re being a bit creepy,” Stiles said.

“It’s not creepy if you’re my Mate,” Derek told him. “It’s not creepy because I don’t think I’m ever going to get over seeing you in my bedroom, seeing you bare my mark, or knowing that you’re mine.”

Stiles stopped himself from pulling on the sweater he’d pulled out of the closet and threw it on the bed as he walked over to Derek. “You’re being a real sweet talker this morning,” he said, pushing Derek gently until he was backed up against the wall. He kissed the tip of Derek’s nose and then made a trail of them all over his face.

“The kids,” Derek protested, but gripped Stiles’ hips and sandwiched their bodies together. “We shouldn’t…”

Stiles shut him up with what was possibly the dirtiest, raunchiest, and most passionate of kisses they’d shared to date.

Derek was panting for breath when Stiles pulled away, his lips covered in spit that he didn’t seem to care to wipe away. “Jesus.”

Stiles gave him a smug look that turned serious and fond as he cupped Derek’s face in his hands. “I love you, Derek Hale. The truth is, I don’t think the way you look at me is creepy, I don’t think that at all. I’m just an ass and not very good at accepting that someone, particularly someone as perfect as you, looks at me like you’re so lucky to have me. I can come to accept it, but you should know that I’m the one who is truly lucky. You truly helped bring me back from death, because that’s where I was before you stepped in last year. Not to mention how lucky I was to have you for all the years before that and how lucky I’ve been to have you since. You brought me back to life, you helped me live again as me, and you’re my children’s other father. You’re everything to me.”

“And I’m the sap?” Derek asked, smirking.

Stiles dropped his hands form Derek’s face and used one to swat at his husbands ridiculously defined abs. “Way to ruin the moment.”

Derek winced. “If I’m not mistaken, I just heard Danika yell something about Klaudia painting with her poopy pull-up. The moment would’ve been ruined with or without my help…”

The sound of Klaudia and Danika’s bedroom door opening with a flourish cut off Derek’s words. “Daddy!” Danika wailed. “Help! Klaudia is being nasty!”

“I not!” Klaudia yelled back, sounding like she was in tears.

“How much do you love me?” Derek asked Stiles.

“Oh no,” Stiles said. “Today is your day to help her get dressed while I make breakfast.”

“How can you actually think of eating at a time like this?” Derek asked.

“Don’t move!” Danika yelled. “Stay there or you’re gonna be in more trouble than now!”

“Am not!” Klaudia sassed back.

“We’ll do it together,” Stiles said and took Derek’s hand. He pulled him into the hall and put his hand over his mouth. “Oh god!”

Arek’s face poked out from the crack in the bathroom door across from their room. “Gwoss!” he commented before shutting the door again.

“Daddy!” This time Danika sounded like she was actually crying. “It’s in my hair! Help! Help! Help!” she screeched.

Stiles and Derek both looked at one another and grumbled, “Oh, shit.” There was really no better way to sum up how they felt.

Later, once the girls were all clean, along with their bedroom and four loads of laundry, a call made to a carpet cleaner, and long after lunch time, the kids were settled in the den playing with toys while Derek and Stiles were having a quick, much needed bout of stress-relief in the bathroom. The Hales were a very different type of family, but those differences usually gave cause for celebration and appreciation. Unlike most of the world who searched for years, who searched for lifetimes, to find their true mate, Stiles and Derek were different. Stiles was born for Derek and Derek had been born for him. They had always been connected and always would be.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all who have left Kudos and comments and thanks for giving this a read. This was technically my first completed Sterek fic, so even though I've completed and posted other Sterek fics, I still have first time Sterek posting jitters about the end to this story. I really hope you all enjoyed it.


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